#;;before I could barely finish one draft in the week

[leclerc-hs]

ex's and oh's - CL16

pairing: ex!charles leclerc x fem!reader summary: in which you and your ex-boyfriend are in complicated territory OR your ex fucks you in the drivers seat of his car warnings: 18+, SMUT under the cut, badly translated french (pls correct me), not proofread!!!! word count: 2.4k author's note: ok I just want to sincerely apologize for my long absence on here!!! i know you’ve been waiting for me to finish this for a while now LOL but I've been insanely busy balancing life with two jobs lol. So I'm going to leave this here. I can honestly say it's not my best work and I apologize for that but I really wanted to give y'all something in the mean time. I have a bunch of drafts I plan to work on whenever I get the chance. Love you all!! pls forgive me and don't forget to leave me some comments and thoughts xoxo

THERE WAS NOTHING that could’ve prepared you for this fight. You weren’t drunk, as promised. Although you weren’t sober either. 

You and Charles were...complicated. Exes but…. still, something more. You would always be something more. Your history stretched back almost forever, and that alone made it challenging to stay apart from each other.

There was a point in time when the aftermath of your breakup made it impossible for both of you to share the same space. It invariably led to bitter arguments over seemingly trivial matters. One such instance was during a movie night with your group of friends when you showed up in a sweatshirt that was far too big for your body, obvious that it wasn’t your own. Charles simmered with silent resentment in the corner until he could no longer contain it. The memory etched vividly in your mind, recalling the knots in your stomach throughout the night, feeling the intense burn of Charles’ gaze upon you. He didn’t cast a single glance at the movie that evening.

“Who’s fucking sweatshirt is that?”

“Already fucking other people, hm?”

As you slid into the familiar supple leather seats of his Ferrari, you felt the warmth of the car hug you like a blanket, providing much relief from the contrast of the cold air outside. In the process of slipping into his car, your skirt had ridden up higher than Charles would’ve preferred, your panties nearly exposed if it weren’t for the sheer tights providing more coverage. Did you really go out dressed like that? He felt his hands grip the steering wheel tighter than normal as a waft of your perfume enveloped the car. 

“Did you have fun?” His tone was neutral, but his body posture was tense. He barely turned his head to check if you placed your seat belt on before peeling out from the curb at a speed much too fast.

Sober you would’ve caught onto his attitude almost immediately. But tipsy you, thought nothing of it. 

“Oh Charlie!” You exasperated, the click of your seatbelt filling the car as the radio was turned on the lowest possible volume. “It was so fun!” 

He dropped one of his hands from the wheel, bringing his hand to rub the scruff of his unshaven jaw, as a deep sigh falls past his lips. He was annoyed—more than annoyed. The sole fact that you left him unanswered for hours wasn’t his only issue. What had his muscles all tight and the permanent frown on his face was the images of one of your guy friends being way too close to you. Too close for Charles liking. It was the same guy that his friends had briefly mentioned weeks ago on his boat. 

“Cha, l’aimes-tu toujours?”  Do you still love her? His friends sat around the table; half-eaten food left on their plates. He didn’t answer the question immediately. But everyone knew, subconsciously, that he did.

“Elle et Nick été proches récemment,” Her and Nick have been close lately. The phrase alone made Charles choke on his water. In that moment, he thanked the lord for the sunglasses covering his widened eyes. The burn in his chest began simmering as the conversation continued.

“Oui, ne sont-ils pas partis ensemble l’autre soir?” Yeah, didn’t they leave together the other night?

He couldn’t blame his friends for the discussion. They didn’t know that you two were still in complicated territory. Everyone always figured you two would rekindle, but it’s been so long, no one knew if it would happen anymore.

So, although Charles felt like the air was being sucked out of his lungs, he plastered a big smile on his face while throwing his arm around the back of the chair beside him. “Nick, hm?”

He made a genuine effort to control his anger. Honestly, he really did try. However, as you persisted in discussing the night, particularly when the name ‘Nick’ slipped past your lips, he couldn’t help but lose his composure just a little bit.

His voice took on a lethal edge as he maneuvered the car to the side of the desolate road. The act of driving demanded attention, but his mind was a whirlwind of a million thoughts. He was consumed by anger, it oozed from every pore of his skin as he scoffed and turned to confront you. Your eyes were already fixated on him, and his gaze instantly met yours.

“A-t-il touché à toi?” Did he touch you? His voice rumbled like a low growl, and the green in his eyes was so deep and intense that it masked their actual color, making it nearly impossible to discern the green hue. But you memorized those eyes. His eyes. You were familiar with every nuance of shade that adorned them. His breath was slow and even as he awaited your answer.

The idea drove him insane—the notion of another man laying his hands on you. And even worse, you wanting another man’s hands on you.

For a moment, you found yourself taken aback, only to fully comprehend his tense posture and the sharpness in his tone. Suppressing any inclination to react visibly, you wrestled to maintain a neutral expression, ensuring your lips didn’t betray a hint of a smirk at his jealousy. You didn’t even need to ask who he was. 

“Et est-ce que cela aurait de l’importance s’il l’avait fait?” And would it matter if he did?

The fact that you didn’t need to even address who he was talking about, only caused him to spiral further. As if you were confirming that Nick is the only other option. 

The car felt increasingly smaller as the anger in Charles grew. His knee was bouncing with impatience as he clenched his jaw. Yes. Yes, it fucking mattered. He wanted to shout until his lungs gave out that it mattered. He began to lose the evenness of his breathing pattern, becoming more erratic as you didn’t answer the question.

“Dis-le-moi et nous le découvrirons,” Tell me and we’ll find out. His eyes traced your every movement as your eyes narrowed at him, a scowl forming on your lips. The lips he dreamed about almost every night. 

The silence in the car heightened, and with each passing second, you could feel your heart rate quicken. His gaze remained fixated on your face, unwilling to divert elsewhere. It was as if he were a predator, and you, his prey, captivated under the unrelenting focus of his eyes.

“What? No snarky remarks for me?” C’mon play with me. Although he felt like his chest might crack in two, he needed to mask it. Needed to be nonchalant. 

The tension lingered until you took a sharp swallow, the muscles in your neck twitching, that his eyes shifted, descending to the nape of your neck. They fixated on the subtle gleam of your collarbones, still glistening with a thin sheen of sweat from the night’s dancing. His gaze traced the gentle rise and fall of your breasts with each breath. He wanted to devour you whole.

You felt your thighs clench slightly from his pressuring gaze. He is so fucking hot. His hair in complete disarray from running his hands through it. He wore a pair of grey sweats and a black hoodie that made you want to cling your body around him as soon as you saw him.

“Y a-t-il quelque chose entre vous deux?” Is there something between you two? His patience was wearing thin. You still haven’t answered his question, and the silence was eating him alive.

You detected a subtle waver in his tone, prompting a softening in your gaze. Your hand gently reached for his face, and he allowed his head to lean ever so slightly against the palm of your hand. It was as if your touch alone had the power to appease the turmoil of anger and jealousy rising within him. 

And as much as you loved to get under his skin like he did yours sometimes. You couldn’t find it in you to provoke him. To cause him any pain. “No.”

The corner of his lips twitched up slightly as your thumb brushed against his jawline. His hands tremble when they reach for you, pulling you out of your seat and across the center console into his lap. “Est-ce que cela aurait de l’importance?” Would it matter? You repeated the question as your legs straddled him. His hands slid around your waist, resting on your backside in a tight grip, so you couldn’t move. 

His mouth formed into a hardened line, as if he forced it to show you just how serious he was when he answered. “Bien sûr que cela a de l’importance,” Of course it matters. 

“Porquoi?” Why?

“Why?” He repeats your question. Scoffing at the fact that you even had to ask him. As if you didn’t already know why.

You suck in a sharp breath as soon as his warm tongue meets with the nape of your neck, trailing hot and wet kisses up until his lips meet yours for a moment before pulling away. 

“Mon coeur t’appartient.” My heart is yours. There was no questioning in his words. “Il a toujours été tien.” It’s always been yours. As those words hung in the air, your breath caught. You love this man. You love this man with every fiber of your being. 

His fingers gripped onto your thighs with an almost bruising intensity, as if he needed to confirm your presence by feeling you in his hands, ensuring you weren’t a figment of his imagination. His nails traced along the thin fabric at the apex of your thigh, before digging them in and tearing them open instantly. You let out an audible moan as his fingers found immediate solace to the damp spot on your underwear. Of course, you were already wet just by looking at him.

“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me? He questioned, adding slight pressure to your cotton covered clit. 

You moaned in delight at the contact but did not answer his question. It drove him mad.

His fingers slipped past your underwear, shoving them to the side, and slipping his fingers into your heated core. His fingers curled, hitting the spot you needed him most just right. Your back arched, barely grazing the horn of the steering wheel. Your hands were frantic, reaching for the waistband of his grey sweats as Charles lifted in hips off his seat to help you.

“Oh fuck,” You moaned out loud. The pace of Charles’ fingers had you careening forward with a cry, before he pulled them out of you completely, leaving you shouting “No!”.

“Relax cherie,” He clicked his tongue before pulling your chest flush with his, raising you up an inch to slide his cock right into you. He groaned as your pussy clenched tightly around him, squeezing him so tight he could barely focus on anything else. He held you down against him, letting neither of you move. 

It wasn’t until you fully sat, completely full of him, that he rips the buttons of your shirt open, revealing a lacy ensemble across your chest. He traces the tip of his finger along cup of your breast and says, “Did you wear this on purpose, hm?”

You shook your head, wiggling your hips with a groan. You needed to move, needed to feel the force of his cock into you, but he wouldn’t let you. He just held your hips down as if he was waiting for something.

"You feel so good," He groans. "Squeezing me so tight."

“Cha, please.” You begged, getting agitated at the lack of movement.

“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me? He repeats again. A grin stretched across his features at your obvious struggle. The fact that you needed his cock this badly, had him only growing harder. 

You bit your lip as Charles’ fingers sprawled across your neck in a tight grip, pulling your face to his. Close enough that your noses were touching.

“Réponds, et je suis tout à toi.” Answer, and I’m all yours.

“Est-ce que tu m’aimes?” Do you love me?

You don’t know what held you back from answering before. Because you did. He knew you did. He just needed to hear the words from your lips. Needed the reassurance that this was more than a quick fuck to you.

“Oui!” Yes! You half-shouted, eyes blown wide with need. “I will always love you!”

His hand released your hips, giving you the immediate go-ahead. You wasted no time, working yourself over his cock, moans eliciting from the both of you almost instantly. His hands slid to cup your ass, controlling your movements as he urges you to move faster.

“Mon dieu,” Charles groaned, his fingers dipping into the cup of your lacy ensemble, rolling your nipples between his index finger and thumb. “Je t’aime,” I love you.

The mere utterance of those words had you instinctively squeezing his cock with an intensified fervor, bringing you perilously close to the brink of ecstasy. A sly smirk played on his lips, a silent acknowledgment of the effect his declaration had on you.

You moved your hips faster, the bounce of your breasts had Charles in a trance before he brought his eyes back to your face, looking you deep in the eyes. “Je t’aime,” He muttered again, bringing his lips to your mouth, swallowing your moans as if they were the oxygen he needed to breathe. “C’mon, give it to me.” He begged, thrusting his hips upward into you as much as he could, eyes rolling to the back of his head until you both reach that point of ecstasy you both needed.

His face was bright red, cheeks flushed, as you worked yourself over him in a hurried pace. His sweatshirt no doubt, making him feel like a furnace, as sweat forms near his eyebrow. His eyes were wild, unsure where to look until they met with your eyes. His cock twitching inside of you from the clench of your pussy on him, and the gaze of your eyes.

“Je t’aime!” You shouted, releasing all over him and falling forward in exhaustion onto Charles chest. 

Charles groaned hotly into your ear, his release catching him completely off guard due to the words you uttered. You could hear his heart pounding in his chest as you rested against it. 

“Mon Coeur est à toi.” My heart is yours. His fingers caressed the ends of your hair behind your back. The both of you made no attempts to move.

“Mon Coeur est à toi.” My heart is yours. You repeat back to him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

[peachsayshi]

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ blessings ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

↬ summary: nanami kento tries to be the perfect husband and father but when a tough night fighting curses ends badly it results in nanami snapping at his daughter. 

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ minors / ageless / blank blogs (dni) ↬･tags: nanami x female reader; hurt/comfort; nanami has a daughter; domestic drama; being a jujutsu sorcerer is hard; momotarō is a famous Japanese folk tale :c ↬･ wc: 3,383

↬ notes: hi, everyone! I'm currently not really active at the moment so please don't feel disheartened if I haven't been responding to your messages or tagged posts. I'm taking a small break and only coming online for a bit to catch up on some messages, read fics or queue posts. I'll be back to properly posting and interacting soon but in the meantime I wanted to share that I finished up this draft over the weekend. I was actually debating if I should post this but then just decided to go for it! sending all my love xx

nanami’s head is heavy, completely clouded with despair, and it tints his brown eyes a shade of murky gray. the walls of his beautiful home feel narrow, almost claustrophobic, which explains why he’s struggling to catch his breath right now. stepping into the hallway, he instinctively peeks into the dining area to find you and his daughter eating dinner together. she’s sitting on the chair, her legs far too short to even touch the ground, holding a half eaten onigiri between her small hands. you are by her side, sneakily tidying up after her as you brush away the stray beads of rice trickling onto the table. 

a little glow blooms in nanami’s heart at the sight of you both but there is a vicious creature residing in the pit of his stomach that veils the bright light away. 

he quietly takes off his jacket, his bruised fingers loosening the tie around his neck. he clears his throat before announcing with exhaustion to you both that he’s finally home. 

your eyes meet his, the muscles on your face falling immediately. he can practically feel the blood rushing through your veins as worry washes over you. the reaction makes his chest uncomfortably tight, but he knows that he can’t hide his expressions around you like he used to. 

you both move together so fluidly now, like a single body of water that ebbs and flows to its own natural current. 

he escaped the night’s fight with a few cuts and a couple of bad bruises, but there is currently a student on shoko’s table who barely made it through. the young man arrived at jujutsu tech only a couple of weeks ago, but his naive and charismatic qualities turned into fatal flaws in the world of sorcery.

he bit off more than he could chew by trying to take on a special grade curse.  

shoko promised nanami that she would heal the boy, but admitted there was only so much she can do in regards to the aftermath of his injuries. the sorcerer couldn’t bare to leave him behind, but gojo refused that he stay and insisted that he return back home to his pretty wife and adorable daughter immediately. 

“I’ll handle things from here,” is what his superior said, while nanami’s guilt climbed up his throat. 

that student was his responsibility... 

...and he failed him entirely. 

“papa’s home!” his daughter chirps. the pitch of her voice ringing in nanami’s ears to pull him back to the present and far away from the scene where life and death were dancing together in a tango.  “papa, look, look...mama and I made onigiri!” 

her feet bounces up and down, and there’s a touch of a pink against her cheeks when her mouth stretches into a beaming grin. the innocence in her eyes makes nanami falter and he can feel himself falling deeper into the abyss. for a minute he resents himself for selfishly bringing such a beautiful thing into this world, only to gamble with the fact that she may potentially be in his shoes one day. 

he begs for that outcome to never happen, beseeches whatever higher power above him that exists to spare her from this life. she should never have to go through this, never have to experience these heartbreaks that only wither a person down. 

“I can see that,” nanami replies in a low voice before shifting his attention to his feet. 

right now, he can’t stomach an ounce of her purity, and it radiates around her like a halo. she's so unbothered by his presence, so completely unaware of the sudden change in the atmosphere around her... 

“we made tuna, salmon, and veggies...” she babbles on. 

“how nice...” nanami curtly interrupts, before anxiously running his fingers through the strands of his messy blonde hair. 

“which one do you want, papa?” she questions eagerly, pointing her sticky hands at the plate to show off the selection of triangles. 

“sweets,” you interject just as nanami turns on his heel to walk in the other direction, “how about we finish up eating our dinner, and we can save some for your daddy tomorrow...”

“nooo!” she whines far too loudly, which forces nanami to stop dead in his tracks. he glances over his shoulder to see her puffing out her bottom lip with disappointment, “you said...you said we make it so we eat together!” 

she’s only six. 

she can’t perceive that her father is struggling to hold himself together. deep down inside nanami knows that, but it isn’t enough to keep his cool. he doesn’t know why his daughter’s insistence causes him to pinch the front of his brows with annoyance or why he shoots a frustrated look in her direction. 

he doesn’t know why he’s suddenly picturing shoko calling the student’s parents to deliver the news that the man who was supposed to protect their child was unsuccessful in his duty. 

he doesn’t know why he feels at fault for everything that happened, even though the circumstances of the events were completely out of his control.  

he doesn’t know why he’s imagining himself on the receiving end of a very similar call, or why he can’t stop picturing his precious daughter on that table instead…

all of this pummels into him, and the monster emerges out from it’s cave.  

“be quiet and stop making such a fuss.” 

his voice comes out sharper than expected, and the expulsion of his frustration allows him to see the crystal clear picture before him. 

the room is dead silent. 

your face is in full shock at the hissing tone of your sweet husband snapping at his darling baby girl who he only ever speaks to with a gentle voice. 

what truly unravels nanami is the look that his daughter is giving him - her angelic features are sullen, but her eyes remain wide with surprise. her bottom lip is slack, and the only sound he can hear is her uneasy breathing. her eyes, the most beautiful gems in existence, twinkle as tears begin to form and she tries to quickly blink them away before turning her attention back to her plate.  

nanami doesn’t know he managed to stop time itself but the three of you remain frozen in place. 

he regrets his words immediately. 

he wants nothing more than to pull his precious girl close into his chest and smother her with apologies. the part of him with sense tells him to follow through and make things right with her, but instead he begrudgingly continues to wallow in his own self pity as he walks over to his room. 

･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･

the house is unusually quiet now, the music of domestic joy morphing into hushed murmurs and whispers outside your room door. you settle your crestfallen daughter into her bedroom before moving to check on your husband next. 

fresh out of the shower, nanami is seated on the edge of the bed with his exhausted eyes pressed firmly into the palms of his hands. he exhales a heavy breath, his dirty work clothes still piled just outside the bathroom, and your heart nearly collapses seeing him in such a state of disarray.

you kneel before him, two hands sliding across the soft material of his sweats as you brush them along his thighs before carefully bringing them up to circle around his wrists. 

“kento?” 

he allows you to pull his palms away but your throat constricts when a band forms tightly around your neck. you swallow the lump with an upturn of your brows as you are greeted with red, exhausted eyes. you cup that handsome face in your hands, your thumbs sweetly motioning back and forth across his cheeks as you try to soothe the tension away. 

after all this time together, it hurts you to see that he still tries to hide his tears. nanami constantly holds himself to the highest standard, always ensuring that he can solidify himself as the rock for you and your daughter to depend on through thick and thin. it’s so rare for you to see him crack, to watch him crumble under the overbearing weight of the things that he is burdened to carry. 

“you had a rough night,” you point out in a low, sympathetic voice and he simply just nods his head in acknowledgement. 

his eyes flutter close again when you lean forward to press a tender, reassuring kiss on his brow. “you want a talk about it?” 

the way his voice shakes makes you shiver, but you tentatively listen as he relays the events of the night before finally concluding that satoru called him only a few minutes ago to reassure him that the student in question is alright. 

“he lost an eye, but at least he’s alive...” he concludes somberly, the warble in his final statement prompting you to wrap your arms around his neck as you pull him in for a protective hug. 

nanami receives it with gratitude, strong arms circling around your waist as he buries his nose into the crook of your shoulder and breathes in.

your scent is a reminder of his permanent sanctuary.

a safety, a reassurance of home.

you stroke his blonde locks between your fingers until he exhales, "i'm so sorry," he breathes, "I...I didn't mean to snap like that..."

a tiny smile tugs at the corners of your lips, and you unravel yourself to cup his jaw into your palms once again. "I appreciate the apology, but I don't think I should be on the receiving end of it..." you hint sweetly.

nanami closes his eyes guiltily. "I'm a horrible father."

you click your tongue with disappointment, your face falling as your disapproval pinches between the space of your brows.

"you're just human," you remind him defensively, "you're a wonderful father, the best man that our daughter can look up to"

"did you see the look on her face?" he replies, his voice unnaturally small. the tender expression he gives you is filled with regret, and it's enough to make your heart ache all over again.

"kento," you contend, "don't do this to yourself. we're both going to have days where we mess up, but that doesn't mean that the problem can't be fixed."

you thread his hair between your fingers, like your brushing through rays sunlight. "she's waiting for me to read her a bedtime story," you explain, "but I'm sure she would rather be with you instead..."

"I doubt that," your husband replies as he reaches for your hand to kiss the inside of your palm.

"we will always love you, kento," you answer back, "unconditionally. on your good days and your bad ones"

he didn't even know how desperately he needed to hear that, for your certainty to remedy away all his sorrows, until they actually left your lips.

your husband's throat tightens, tears pricking his eyes once more but he hides them away when he leans in to seek out a kiss from the woman whose heart he deeply adores.

･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･

nanami leans his shoulder against the frame of his daughter's room. his heart patters lightly, making him realize that he might actually be nervous. it's strange, he thinks, that he would feel hesitant to approach his own child considering that he was her guardian but nanami had never allowed his professional life to fracture into his personal one like this before.

she's seated on the floor next to a pile of books and her stuffed rabbit secured tightly underneath her arm. there's a warmth in his chest when when he makes note of the soft toy, because he purchased that himself the day she was born and the pair have been inseparable ever since.

he clears his throat, bringing his scuffed knuckles to gently knock on the door.

"my love?" he calls out to her.

his daughter perks up, her breathing changing slightly as it rises and falls with a hint of apprehension. she glances over her shoulder to see him.

"where's mama?" she asks, her question shattering the man into a million pieces at her subtle dismissal.

"taking a shower," he answers cooly, "but I'm here to get you ready for bed..."

her lovely eyes refuse to lock into his own, and she simply tucks her lip between her bottom teeth to avoid giving nanami a reply.

she looks so much like him when he was a child. he remembered when his parents used to scold him too, and how he would also hide away in his room. the only difference is that nanami's parents were far more traditional - a time where elders were never submissive to young hearts.

"may I come in?" he requests politely, ensuring that his daughter knew she had a choice if she wanted to speak to him.

her nostrils flare slightly while she considers him, but to his relief she nods her head eagerly.

nanami steps into her room, always feeling largely out of place amongst her things. "did you find a story for bed?" he asks.

she again quietly nods her head and picks up her favorite book; a compilation of japanese folktales with beautiful illustrations. you both have been reading one for her each night ever since she got it it as a present from her grandparents.

he crouches on his knees to meet her at eye level. "you've really been enjoying this one, haven't you?" he carries on, hoping to coax more words out of her.

“yeah,” she replies in the same mousy voice of uncertainty. she shifts her attention away when she stands on her feet, clutching onto the stuffed bunny tightly while her other hand swings the book by her side.

“and what tale are we reading tonight?”

she shrugs her shoulders with indifference, a hint of pink blushing her cheek. “I dunno. I…I can just until mama is ready…”

nanami visibly slumps. her rejection an entirely new painful experience that he's never endured before. he scratches the back of his head anxiously, finding himself at a loss for words. the seconds pass, an awkward bubble surrounding both father and daughter. it’s only broken when nanami exhales a sigh, and reaches his hands towards her waist to draw her into his frame.

“darling,” he addresses tenderly, “can you look at me?”

“no, you were mean…” she blurts out, her bottom lip trembling slightly.

nanami’s heart sinks.

that’s the first time he’s ever heard those words from her lips.

“I know,” he murmurs shamefully.

her mouth forms into a tiny button of a pout but she meets his eyes for the first time as he acknowledges his behavior.

nanami arches forward to kiss her forehead, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you like that, sweetheart. I’m so sorry if I upset or scared you”

she fidgets with the book in her hand. “did you not want onigiri?” she asks, her innocence tugging the corners of her father’s lips into a small grin.

“it wasn’t the onigiri, my love,” he reassures, “daddy just…had a bad day at work…”

“why was it bad?”

nanami sighs once again.

she still doesn’t know that he’s a sorcerer. you’ve both reduced his position to her by simply explaining that nanami “helps and protects people".

thankfully your daughter doesn’t pry too hard to ask any further questions.

“someone I know got hurt. so, daddy was a little shaken up when he came home…”

"shaken up?"

"scared, my love"

his daughter shakes her head in disbelief, “nu-uh, you never get scared, papa” she rebuts.

nanami huffs out a laugh, flashing her a full grin now as he brings his fingers to his chin to to ponder her sweet statement. he quirks his brow and cheekily replies, "we can't all be brave like you," in an attempt to lighten the mood.

his daughter narrows her eyes towards his hand, her mind instantly distracted with other things already. "you got hurt too papa!" she gasps, dropping the bunny by her side to point at his knuckles.

nanami glances at his fingers covered in red marks.

"wait!" she exclaims as she places the book by his side. "I have something!"

she spins on her heel and rushes towards one of her drawers. meanwhile, nanami just takes her in with his love soaked eyes, watching as she rummages through her stuff with determination until she scurries back his way.

"got it!" she squeaks with a smile, and to his surprise she jumps right into his arms with such nonchalance it nearly make him crumble on the spot.

your voice echoes in the back of his mind: "we will always love you, kento. unconditionally. on your good days and your bad ones"

"mama bought it for me," she explains, regaining her father's attention once more.

nanami rests his cheek on her shoulder, and inhales her powdery scent as he keeps one arm warmly secured around her waist. he watches her peel off the plaster of the band aid, lbefore grabbing his hand and placing it unevenly over his knuckles.

"now a kiss!" she adds, as she brings his hand to her mouth and exaggerates a loud "mwah" sound for emphasis. "mama says the kiss is what makes it all better"

nanami instantly feels significantly better from this remedy of love. he extends his digits out, and looks at the hot pink "hello kitty" band aid that now rests comfortably on his knuckles.

"thank you, my darling," he coos and peppers her cheek with a few kisses before turning her to face him once again. "you made me feel a lot better"

she flashes him an equally large smile in return, showing off her missing teeth.

"I did?"

nanami chuckles as he scoops her up in his arms to give her a well deserved bear hug. she laughs as he stands on his two feet, and sheds away any lingering thoughts of apprehension that may have stuck.

"you always do," he reassures, his soul vibrating back to life when he feels her return his embrace. “you think you can forgive me for how I spoke earlier?”

“yeah,” she confirms and squeezes him just a little tighter. "I love you lots, papa"

"oh, my angel," he hums, "you have no idea just how much I love you too..."

･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･･ﾟ ･ﾟ·:｡･ﾟﾟ･

after winding down from your evening pampering session, you decide to pass by your daughter's room to check on your little family. you peer through the cracked door to find nanami spread out on your daughter’s bed, with your daughter curled into side and her head resting on his chest.

“did I come from a peach too like momotarō?” you hear her ask, but your heart flutters at the sight of your husband’s pearly whites.

you’ll never get over how much you love seeing him smile with such genuine emotion.

“no,” you hear nanami reply calmly, his finger lightly holding the page open. “you remember your mother explaining how you used to live in her stomach first?”

“oh yeah,” your daughter replies with a hint of disappointment over the fact that she was not birthed from a piece of fruit as mentioned in one of her favorite folk tales.

“shall I carry on?”

“uh-huh,” she answers and she readjusts her position to get even more comfortable. "I think if we look hard enough we might find momotarō..."

"you think so?" your husband wonders with honest curiosity.

"I know so, papa!"

"how many peaches do you think we need to check?"

"hmmm," she mumbles, "maybe a million?"

"a million?" your husband dramatically replies, "that's a lot of peaches don't you think,"

"I mean, it's less than a billion..." she responds quite matter of factly.

you catch his gaze from between the door that’s ajar. his expression fully relaxes, and you smile knowingly in his direction at the sight of father and daughter making up.

“papa?” his daughter questions upon his sudden silence, but your husband keeps his focus on you as he hums in acknowledgement before replying, "you're not wrong, but it'll still be quite a challenge to cut through a million peaches..."

"we might need some help," your daughter adds on.

you blow him a secret kiss as to not interrupt further, and quietly close the door before heading back to your bedroom.

[coconutdays]

study week!

s. your boyfriend deserves some special treatment after working so hard and you think you know the best way to treat him, you think

w.c. 4.9k

w. fem! reader, biker!geto! x reader , fluff!, smut!

a/n: this was halfway written in my drafts and I know I haven't posted him in a while, so I thought id treat my girlies for what they fell for me for in the first place and finish it

it's midterms week and as difficult as it's been for your dear boyfriend suguru, you can't stop yourself from being a bit of an obstacle for him yourself.

he's waiting for you outside of your french studies lecture in the morning when you can see his slightly tired eyes rake across the cleavage bared by your low-cut blouse. then to the short mini-skirt and pantyhose lining your legs. and your lips, you're wearing his favorite lipgloss, the one that always has him pushing you onto your knees and sucking him dry.

"hey baby." he smiles a little, taking the almost too large water bottle from your hands and reaching down to hold one of your hands while you walked, "you look beautiful."

"hi," you snuggle into his arm, hoping he didn't see the slight quirk of your lips at his obvious stare just a few seconds ago, "did you study as much as you wanted this morning?"

suguru nods, thumb caressing your hand as he sighs, "yes, although I do wish I could've finished earlier and had more time to get ahead on that project."

that project. the one that had been taking up most of the time for the past two weeks, more so this one right before his exam and presentation came up for his Japanese architecture class.

it had been only last semester the two of you started dating after the close to masterful planning of satoru gojo that led to your hookup with the charming brunette on halloween night. you had no other classes together when the spring semester came around and you both obviously missed it at times like these, when the added ninety minutes of just getting to even be together in lecture and spare time of studying the class material together could've more easily satiated the want of each other's presence

this semester he had Japanese architecture and although the class was fairly easy, he had to work on a hefty group presentation that took up over thirty percent of his grade, and he being the ever meticulous student, was doing everything in his power to make sure he would get his A+, which meant being taken prisoner by his assigned group in the library to piece together the presentation most days. and when he wasn't, he was studying for his other classes and making the most of any interaction he could with you, be it by texting, FaceTime, or getting a quick dessert at the cafe near the school campus with you.

but not sex.

"'m sorry. that sucks," you pout for him, peering up at him through your eyelashes purposefully, "wish I could make it a solo project, so you wouldn't have to rely on other people for your grade."

suguru spares you a small glance before tiredly looking you and shining his warm smile down at you, "well it's already too late for the professor to change his mind, so I'll bear it through."

suguru tears his gaze away from you so he can guide the both of you across the street to the previously mentioned cafe. when you make it across the street and continue walking to the ever growing close cafe, your boyfriend strikes another topic.

"how was class though? did you get the material?"

you nod your head eagerly and upon realizing he can't see you do it because of his guiding, you voice, "yea! it was relatively easy, shouldn't take me more than an hour or two to brush up on what I need for the test."

"good." he hums, opening the door for you to the cafe, never letting go of your hand, "and your other classes?"

and there came the reason as to why you felt so free to mess around with him in the first place. you barely even had midterms, luckily enough this time around. you only had your French midterm and the studying barely even counted as something to be stressed about when it was just like overlooking the normal homework being assigned in the class. and your other classes...well it was pure luck that your professors didn't care to give one and if they did, they instead spread them around to conveniently happen before and after midterms like any other normal test. god knows you're happy they didn't pile up into one week like they did for your boyfriend, his poor poor soul. a poor soul so restricted by his other responsibilities during this short time span that you just wanted to tease him for all he's got.

"I already started my study review for my international business relations class yesterday, so I'll be fine when the test comes around next month." you beam proudly, grateful that the university gods had been kind to you and to yourself for staying on track to your planner.

"good girl" suguru's eyes crease when he gets in line to order with you and brings your hand to his mouth to kiss it. the action is mindless, just like his response, it was natural for him to praise you. and considering his avoidance of your sex life ever since those cruel cruel cruel classmates of his started dragging him into the study rooms of the library as of last week, it was purely innocent, with no intention of riling you up.

but it did.

and you can't help but think of the last time you and suguru had sex, the exact morning of the day he had received the news from his professor that he would have to group up with other people for a good grade.

he had eaten you out for close to an hour because he felt like it. it was slow and sensual the entire time, he never listened to your pleas to go faster, telling you to take it like he knows his good girl would, and although it wasn't the cruel speed you begged for most of the time, it still brought you over the edge in a many pleasing and toe curling way.

the thought had you blushing at the fact the person you held those memories with was right next you, being domestic, and leading you to an empty booth while he carried your desserts in a bag.

craving the touch of your boyfriend, you refuse to sit across from him, and squeeze yourself next to him in the booth, the action makes him caress your thigh warmly before he sets out napkins and puts each of your preferred sweets on their respective places.

you're halfway through your dessert when you push yourself onto suguru and pout, "I miss you sugu."

he places a firm yet soft hand on top of your head to caress it, "I miss you too. I'll be all yours tomorrow."

"what?" he wasn't supposed to be free until three days time

"my group decided they wanted to turn in the project today to get it over with, which I'm up for by all means. and my calculus professor felt merciful last night. he gave passes for the midterms to the students with no late assignments and As."

you try your best to hide the devious excitement in your eyes and instead smile endearingly, "that's so good! we can go eat at that viet restaurant I dmed you."

suguru takes your non pastry sticky hand and brings it onto his lap as he gazes into your eyes, "I'd rather cook for you tomorrow."

your curiosity overtakes your predatory instinct and you bat your lashes at him when you ask, "what are you thinking of making?"

"risotto,"he hums, before he leans forward a bit and kisses the corner of your mouth. when he pulls back he smirks a little at the flustered look on your face.

"you had some strawberry filling." he points out before placing another kiss at the top of your head, rubbing a tentative hand at the back of your head in doing so, "let's finish the pastries so I can buy you a matcha latte before my class."

and just like that, he had made your resolve weaken, yet again, like always, your intent on seducing him forgotten for the meantime due to his proficiency at making your mind a puddle.

you find yourself in the library, hours later in the afternoon, studying with your friend at the same time suguru is meeting with his group.

and...soooooo conveniently sitting at a desk right in front of the glass door of one of the library's large group session cubicles, that just so happens to be hosting your boyfriend and his classmates.

your luck worked out perfectly and you thanked whatever mightier being there was when you saw suguru seated at the far end of the table with no one in front of him, allowing him the perfect view of you from across those few feet and glass door.

you see his eyes light up as he tries to listen to whatever one of his groupmates is saying while sharing a loving look with you.

perfect.

suguru

are you going to study pretty?

by the time you see the message from him, he has his arms folded over each other as he speaks to the other people in the room. god you wish you could hear him speaking right now. he was 100% giving some sort of smart nerd dialect input and you did everything in your power not to remember the time he tutored you in a class he had already taken last semester, using that same voice.

that time,

you had asked for a prize if you got all his questions correct

and he had been more than happy to give when you did

the specifics of which you didn't let yourself fret on more when you typed away to answer him

y/n

mhm I need to practice a speech for french.

and you left your phone on the desk with the screen facing down as you continued to your studies, conniving your next plan of action as you typed away at your computer.

about thirty minutes had passed when suguru was finally allowed a moment of peace, a moment of tranquility from having to explain a million times why comic sans was not the most ideal font to use.

and he was going to reach for his phone, to see what you had answered–he felt the buzz in his pocket–but couldn't look due to his previous debate with his classmates, when he spotted a quite inviting sight.

where you had been sitting basically face to face with suguru, with your friend next you, now you had your back to him as you practiced your speech in front of your friend.

it wasn't really useful, she didn't understand, it was more so to have someone to make eye contact with.

well more so,

an excuse to stand up and bend over a little every once a while so your skirt rode up just the right amount.

you bent over when you hand your phone to your friend to time you, you bent over to get a quick look at your computer, your speech written on it. you bent over to type something quick, a meaningless note, but a meaningful excuse for you.

you're not flashing him outright, of course, there was still a possibility of any one of his group mates accidentally getting a glance of whatever you rescinded to your boyfriend in these minutes; but you are teasing him. he loves these skirts on you. he's especially a bigger fan of the pantyhose, considering this was the only surviving pair you could find. so you know that he's letting his memory and imagination undress the sight before him as well as entice him.

you're glad you didn't unlock your phone when you gave it to your friend to time you, choosing to slide up for the clock on the lock screen, when after an hour of perfecting the speech you didn't need until two weeks time, she says, "geto texted you by the way, a couple minutes ago."

you take your phone from her as you go to sit down, facing suguru again for the first time in an hour, and you don't know if he's resorted to playing your mind games too, but the sight is knee buckling.

he's got his hair in that half up, half down combo that never fails to make you ravenous. and he's biting his cheek as he listens yet again to whoever and looks down at his computer screen every once in a while.

why did he always look so unaffected by everything, god.

you force yourself to look at the messages he sent you earlier

suguru

try your speech on me when you get the chance, okay?

how long are you going to be here? do you want me to take you home after we finish the project?

y/n

I'll make it my first priority! and I'm about to leave :/ I still have to do a quiz at home with my camera on in about two hours, wanna get it done before the hour mark.

you get up seconds after sending the text to suguru to put your belongings away. the task was easy considering you didn’t take much out of your bag. and when you started to close it, you felt a firm and soft hand tugging you towards them. 

suguru was in front of you now, sitting at the edge of your desk, tugging you close to him so you stood between his legs, which were unavoidably manspreading for you.

“five at my place tomorrow?” he’s softly quirking an eyebrow at you in question, holding both of your hands close to him

“I’ll be there,” you nod

he smiles at you in response, then juts his chin a little in the direction of your friend behind you–mindlessly scrolling through her phone as she waits for your conversation with your boyfriend to end–and asks, “are you getting a ride? I don’t like the idea of you walking by yourself, especially when it’s so close to sundown.”

you have to resist the way his protectiveness of you makes your skin crawl and want to jump onto him and force yourself to nod, “yea. she’s dropping me off after this. i need to give her one of the books we read for lit last semester anyways, she needs it for a class.”

“alright then.” suguru pulls both of your hands to his lips and gives a kiss to each one before getting up. he stands tall before you like he always does. “text me when you get home.”

“I will,” you say as he raises his hands to hold both sides of your face to pull you into a kiss. he keeps it calm and fluttering, so the most you can manage to retrieve out of him is a slight sharp inhale when your tongue softly grazes his lower lip. 

he still has his hands on your face when he places a small kiss at the top of your forehead and mutters, “i love you.”

“I love you too.” you say back, basking in his touch, knowing it’ll be close to a full day before you can see him like this again.

y/n 

Im homeeeeeeee!

finished the quiz too, wasn’t as hard as i thought it would be

suguru

nice job baby

have you eaten yet?

y/n 

im making a fruit salad :p have a sweet tooth right now

are you done with the project???

suguru

thankfully, yes. It was getting very difficult to see everyone use comic sans by default today. all i have to do is study for the test now, i can do that on my own without worrying about them. 

ill make a peach cobbler for you tomorrow, for your sweet tooth

y/n

aw for lil ol me??

suguru

yes for lil ol you miss coy

ill text you in a bit, im going home

your conversation continued when suguru got home, minimally if any, knowing youd talk on the phone before one of you headed to bed later that night. he did have to study after and so did you. which was why you saved your seductive attempts for until then.

“I liked your outfit today baby. It was cute,” you could hear your boyfriend repeatedly tossing a small stress ball up into his ceiling faintly. he was in bed already just as you were.

the comment made your ears perk up, “you did?”

“yeah, i didn’t know there was still a pair of pantyhose left.” 

“I didn’t either,” you sheepishly admitted, “i found it in the back of my drawer on saturday and thought id wear it.”

“wear them tomorrow, “ suguru added casually

“okay, ill–”

“don’t wear panties either.” 

your eyes widened a little, “but your bike–”

“what about my bike?”

he was picking you up tomorrow on his bike, like he always did. and you had to sit on his bike, on that leather seat with the incoming wind, your skirt, the pantyhose, no underwear…

“I thought we were having dinner.”

“we are, im making the risotto and peach cobbler for us,” he still sounds like he’s discussing any casual dinner arrangement, “don’t wear panties under the pantyhose.”

“why are you making those demands anyway,” you try to poke at him, as if you didn’t want to do that for him, to see if you could rile him up like you still wanted to these last two weeks, “you haven’t been horny for two weeks.”

“did i tell you i wasn’t?”

the authoritative question had you rubbing your thighs against each other, “no…but you weren’t acting that way either.”

“like you?” 

even on the phone it was hard to escape him, and he made it oh so delicious, even if it did always intimidate you.

“Is it so wrong to want you,” the pout in your voice clear

“no,” suguru comforts, “not at all.”

then, just as he knows he has you on an intense precipice in the conversation, he begins to end the call.

“sleep well pretty,” you can hear the love for you he has through it, as if he wasn’t just backing you into a corner seconds ago, “we’ve had a long day, and i need to get up a bit earlier than usual to get some groceries before i head to the gym.”

“sleep well too,” you huff and you can hear suguru’s laugh

“I love you beautiful."

“I love you too.”

suguru acts like a saint when he picks you up, like he's completely unaware to the fact that you're wearing pantyhose with no panties under your skirt, even though he asked for it.

"hey beautiful," he smiles when he leans down to peck your lips, "you ready to go?"

"yeah," you breathe, genuinely excited to spend time with your boyfriend for the first time in two weeks, uninterrupted

you arrived to your boyfriend's apartment with the most drenched pantyhose known to man. and you were too scared to see if any of your slick left a trail on his motorcycle. and although there was a certain buildup...down there...this had to be considered some sort of psychological torture.

because suguru had not made a sexual move on you the entire dinner, even through dessert.

nothing.

so here you were, stuck making casual conversation with your boyfriend, pussy basically exposed, and paranoid about his next move.

"satoru should not be eating that many macaroons a day. I know he loves them, but that's got to be some sort of crime." you discuss while taking a sip of your wine, "there has to be some economic surplus and deficit issue going on there."

"babe, you've had macaroon mukkbangs with him in front of me."

you pucker your lips in response to your boyfriend's unwavering ability to bring the facts right to your face.

"okay, but he does it way more often than me. consider that. I have to train for a whole month to do that. satoru does it back to back."

"there is that," suguru agrees, eyes flickering to the plate that had just been served with a slice of peach cobbler minutes ago, "and I take it you liked the peach cobbler."

"yes!" you nod eagerly, planting an excited fist on the dining table, "I love that my boyfriend is such a good chef."

"and I love that my girlfriend eats well," suguru responds warmly as he gets up and picks up both of your plates, placing them in the dishwasher before saying, "I'm glad you liked it though. I love watching you enjoy what I make."

suguru then takes your hand, while you're seated, and places a fleeting kiss on the back of it.

"let's go to the bedroom."

god, he just says that and you're ruining the pantyhose even more now.

"okay," you nod, getting up and letting him lead the way to his room.

he doesn't say much during the quick few steps until he opens the door and shuts it behind him.

"you're not wearing panties, right, sweet girl?"

you turn around to look at him, shaking your head earnestly, "no sir."

he walks up to you and takes your head in his palm affectionally, brushing a careful thumb across your cheek while he looks at you lovingly, "good."

"get on your knees then baby."

immediately you're sinking onto the ground and suguru is unbuckling his belt for you, already pulling out his rock hard cock.

on instinct, you open your mouth and suguru takes the invitation without hesitation, popping the tip of his dick against the inside of your cheek again and again.

"those pantyhose must be ruined beyond repair right now, aren't they?"

"mhm" you nod as best you can considering what he's using your mouth for.

"god, I can't wait to rip a hole in them." he hisses while he starts to slide his shaft up and down in your mouth.

its your queue to start sucking him off like you know how to. you hollow your cheeks and let all the spit build up in your mouth, even if it does start to run down your mouth and onto your chest and the floor. every time he nearly pulls out, you swirl your tongue around the underside of his swollen head, and you love the way his hips jut up just a bit at the action.

suguru's let you take the reigns now, instead placing a loving hand on the side of your head and making sure your hair doesn't get in your face.

"missed this pretty face getting messy for my cock." he breathes, grip growing by just a smidge on your hair, "missed it so much. couldn't even fuck your face to get my stress out baby."

he sees the excitement simmer in your eyes and suguru leans over a bit, "what do you say sweet girl, want me to fuck your little throat?"

you nod feverishly, suckling on his tip to show enthusiasm.

suguru gives you a small smile in return while he pinches your cheek affectionately.

"good girl."

he starts to move your head up and down his length at a leisurely place, something not too drastic, where you can feel and taste him coherently

until he suddenly speeds up the pace unforgivingly

"there, there, "he groans almost, staring at your face, "fuck, you're such a filthy girl. what'd I do to get such a pretty slut like you?"

the vulgar praise makes you moan, and the vibrations from your throat make him react the same way

"if I weren't saving my cum for my pussy right now baby, I'd fill your mouth again and again until you're practically spilling." he utters, still jack hammering into your mouth and you're doing everything you can to not let yourself gag,

"you like helping me destress beautiful?" he says desperately, cheeks growing a tinge red as he locks eyes with you

suguru's hips give a warning stutter when you nod, and he suddenly pulls out, and brings you up by an arm, turning you around so he can yank your skirt down.

"fuck." is all that leaves his lips darkly before he helps you take your shirt off and pushes you towards the bed.

"all fours baby, near the edge, wanna get a good fucking view of that pussy."

"o-okay," you say, already ruined by his previous indulgence and in anticipation of what was to come.

you get on all fours immediately and without a moment's waste, suguru's already running a greedy hand up your soaked folds, practically stuck to the pantyhose

"fuck, you're going to kill me. thought I was gonna go insane yesterday."

slap!

suguru lands a painful strike on your pussy

"it's not nice to tease your boyfriend when he's working so hard for you sweetheart. almost lost my mind trying not to think about all the things I wanted to do to you on that library table."

then there's a loud tear, and suguru runs his tongue flat against your exposed folds without hesitation

he starts to literally makeout with your pussy, treating it the way he wants. as if your lips down there could respond to his own. it's all for his own pleasure, none of yours, and you don't mind, turned on way more by the fact that he's using your body in such a depraved way.

and so, because you figure tonight is all about him taking out his stress on you, suguru suddenly stops, and you can feel him sit down on the bed, dragging you to stand in front of him.

"sit on my dick baby," he says, turning you around to face your back towards him, hands gripping your waist.

"wait!" you start to whine for the first time tonight, "I can't do this one, it's too hard for me."

just as suguru was needy, you were needy too.

you wanted the easy relief of him pounding you from behind, with you on all fours. when you rode him him like this, bouncing up and down, it was such a trek. he was so big, even sitting on it was a great feat. and he poked your cervix so painfully every time you went back down like this.

"yeah you can," suguru praises, reaching a hand down to swipe his tip against your folds messily, using the other on your waist to bring you down a little, "you always end up loving how I fill you up when we do it like this sweet girl."

upset, but still eager to have him inside of you, you start to sink down onto him with a pout, unable to stop your mouth from dropping open at the delicious stretch he always gives you

"so fucking big." you whine when he's bottomed out and you feel like you can't breathe from how full he makes you feel

and maybe he was right, because when you pick your ass back up, the feeling of his dick passing through and massaging your pussy from the inside has you keening for more and you could care less about your cervix.

so now you're bouncing against him sporadically, having missed the feeling of him inside you for so long

"missed your dick so much sugu!" you whine, stabilizing your arms on his thighs, ignoring the burning in your legs

"oh my fucking god," he groans, landing a stinging spank on your ass, "I missed this wet little pussy so much too princess. fuck. keep going, dirty fucking girl. gonna buy a butt plug for you so you can wear it with this same little get up. look so fucking cute with a little bunny tail sticking out with this-fuck."

"mhm mhm."

"gonna be my bunny? since you're always looking for my dick? god, if I could keep you in bed all day just for me to fuck you I'd keep that pussy full to the brim."

"sug-sugu!"

"I know baby, I know," he groans, both hands now gripping your ass and pushing you back down again and again, "cum for me, I'll cum with you."

you feel your leg start to kick a little as a reaction to what's about to happen and suguru notices the small paralyzation overtaking your body as a result to the nearing bliss. so he sits up straight and hugs you tight, pummeling you from underneath

"ohmygod ohmygod ohmygod sugu sugu, im cumming im cumming!"

"cum for me baby," suguru says through each quick stroke, "oh my god I'm gonna fuck my load into this slutty fucking pussy. greedy fucking girl's milking it out of me."

and you feel suguru's cock spill inside of you in hard thrusts, giving you what you feel is one of the biggest loads ever, considering this is the first time the both of you have gone without sex with each other for more than two days.

suguru's still inside you when he pulls you onto the bed with him and reaches a hand down to massage your boob

"babe, you did cum a lot." you comment, feeling his load pool inside of you

"good," he breathes, "it'll look hot coming out of you with the pantyhose"

"...are you going to take a picture for your album"

"maybe"

[leilanihours]

34🗝️ with paige

# I CAN SEE YOU'RE LONELY DOWN THERE, DON'T YOU KNOW THAT I AM RIGHT HERE?

pairing: paige bueckers x best friend!reader

word count: 715

warnings: slight angst? maybe?

prompt: "will you stay the night?"

⭑ from lani: paige is such a shy cutie in this (a bold contrast to how i write her in smuts but here we go 😝)

celly masterlist !

main masterlist !

THE WHOLE TEAM was down in the dumps. they barely spoke to anyone, and if they did it was only because they had to.

you had never seen the team so devastated before. they were always high-spirited, positive, and cheerful. but right now, they were the exact opposite.

being an intern on the coaching staff, you had tried your best to speak with all of the girls, see where their heads are at, and what you can do to help ease the pain.

but at the end of the day, you didn't want to overstep and push them to a place they weren't ready to be at, so after a couple days you eased up on them. gave them space.

they all seemed to be doing better as the days went on, especially nika and aaliyah who were preparing to go to the wnba draft. but there was one person who still struggled to even come out of their room: paige.

ever since you decided to give the team their space, you distanced yourself from everyone, including the blonde.

and you thought that's what they wanted, what paige wanted, but when she called you in the middle of the night, it was clear that she wanted something different.

"paige?" you grumble, rubbing your eyes as you sat up in bed, "what's up? are you okay?"

"um," she starts quietly, "i'm sorry for waking you up but uh...could you come over real quick?"

"yeah sure," you say with furrowed eyebrows, "i'll be there in five."

"thank you, y/n."

it sounded so sincere that it concerned you. your mind begins racing, coming up with the worst possible situations. but as you take the elevator up to paige's floor, you try to calm your nerves and put up a calm front for the girl.

after shooting a text to paige announcing that you were at her door, not ten seconds later she was taking your hand and gently pulling you into her dim-lit bedroom.

"is something wrong, paige? it's almost three in the morning," you ask softly, not wanting to seem annoyed that she woke you up. because the truth is that you would run miles to get to her if she asked you to.

"uh, kinda?" she says, not meeting your eyes as she sits down at the foot of her bed, "what have you been up to this past week?"

you pause for a second but decide not to question it as you answer, "i mean, nothing much. just a little bit of finishing final assignments and helping the coaches with schedules for summer...why?"

there's a beat of silence.

"i missed you," she whispers inaudibly.

"what was that?" you ask, taking a step closer to her.

she runs a hand through her blonde hair, "i missed you," she repeats slightly louder. this time you hear it clear as day.

"oh," you whisper, taking a seat next to her, "well i'm right here."

"i'm glad you are," she mutters as she rests her head on your shoulder, her hands drifting to your torso as she plays with the hem of your shirt.

"did you wanna talk about something?"

"not really, not right now," she replies, "just wanna hold you."

you're taken aback by her answer, not expecting for her to say something so intimate. but you weren't complaining..

"okay, sure," you nod, "just let me know when you want me to go back to my dorm, yeah?"

"actually, could you, uh..." she pauses as if she's nervous, "could you stay the night?"

now it's your turn to pause. your best friend, the girl you've developed feelings for, is asking you to sleepover. you can't help but feel butterflies in your stomach.

"of course, paige," you agree after a minute.

"you're not gonna leave before i wake up, right?" she mumbles into your shirt.

"no, i won't, i promise," you say, placing a kiss on her head, "i'll be here."

and for the rest of the night, paige was snuggled into your embrace as you two slept tangled under the covers. it was comforting, safe, secure. it was something you wish you could experience for the rest of your life.

but, of course, it would only be so healing if you experienced it with paige.

— leilani signing off ! 📁

[foreingersgod]

I LOVE THE FICS LATELY AND ALL THE TIME !!

one of them being the cc being obsessed with her gf , now i wanna see a kate martin being obsessed with her gf !!!

Always take rests !!!!

Work Song . KM

pairing: kate martin x reader

A/N: i’m not sure if anon wanted soft, tooth rotting obsession, but i yearn for sweetie pie kate so i hope it’s ok :’)

Boys workin' on empty

Is that the kinda way to face the burnin' heat?

kate was exhausted to say the least. practices, games…everything was really weighing down on her. she had so much on her plate all the time and it often got to be too much for her to handle. there was a lot of stress on her recently, being drafted and being the new girl on the team. she bared the overwhelming feeling of having to impress everyone, prove that she could handle it. and deep down she knew she could. kate was strong and smart and resilient, but her biggest fear was letting people down. letting you down.

that’s why, during times like this, she turned to you. her biggest supporter, her number one fan, her everything. you had been with her since the beginning. you were there for every meltdown and all the late nights spent in tears when kate felt like a failure. you were there for every loss and every win, there to clean up her nasty bruises and cuts. and now you were here to guide her through this huge change in her life. she wouldn’t be able to count on her fingers the amount of times you had truly saved her in the midst of all this. kate struggled with change, hated how she felt like she needed to start over with a whole new team and a whole new life. but you were there to remind her that nothing was going to change, you would still be with her every step of the way. all she needed was you, the most important thing in her life.

you were the reason she got up in the morning. you were the reason she kept pushing even when she felt like giving up. because she knew that at the end of the day, you’d be there with her, arms holding her tight to ground her. that you’d never leave her and, for that, she wanted to make you proud.

I just think about my baby

I'm so full of love, I could barely eat

she was gone for the week, in another state for an away game. but a week was 7 days too long for kate, she couldn’t stand being away from you. she remembers the night before she left, how she was packing her things unwillingly as you made sure she had everything in her bag. you were trying so hard to get her excited, it was going to be one of her first games upon her pro-ball debut and you had assumed she’d be ecstatic. but instead she was sulking (typical kate), talking about how much she was going to miss you.

“i can’t believe you’re about to go live out your life long dream and you’re sitting here pouting” you teased. she knew you were right, and she really was quite excited, but the thought that you wouldn’t be there killed her.

normally you would attend like you always did, but you needed to take the week to focus on finishing up school. kate admired the way you prioritized your studies, but there were times like these in which she cursed your determination. all she wanted was to see you out there, amongst the crowd, cheering her on. a big ‘20’ plastered on your shirt to show your support and a gratifying smile on your face. you were her lucky charm, she would say. but now she here, far from home and missing her girl.

it was the night before the game and kate and the team had opted for a nice dinner out. something to hype everyone up and to boost morale…well that’s what she was told. but it did little to cheer her up and get her excited. she dreaded leaving her lonely hotel room, somewhat dim and weary without you there with her. it had been a long time since she stayed in a room without you. kate had to fight her own mind to attend dinner with the girls, just wanting to stay in and facetime you instead. nevertheless, she managed to get dressed up and make an appearance.

the entire night she was miserable, as expected. she wanted to join in on the conversations, talk about what her teammates were talking about. but she couldn’t help but feel sorry for herself. she was still jet lagged, tired, nervous, and definitely missing you. she couldn’t even eat her food because she couldn’t focus on anything else but the image of you. memories of your relationship flooded her mind as she messed with the food on her plate, all she wanted was to go back home.

not able to stand it anymore, she made some excuse about being sick so she could leave. she packed up the leftovers to bring back to her hotel room and bid everyone a good night. her time would be much better spent texting or calling you than feeling sorry for herself at the table.

finally, she made it back to her room. without a second thought she was changing her clothes and crawling into bed, pulling out her phone and pulling up your contact. she had no hesitation in clicking on the ‘facetime’ button.

the phone rang several times, making her worried that you had already gone to bed for the night. but, on the 4th ring, the call went through and your face appeared on the screen. it was a gorgeous sight, she thought, seeing you there. you had taken off your makeup already, pulled your hair back, and tucked yourself into your shared bed. oh how she longed to be in that bed right now. you had instantly smiled when you saw kate’s face, making her heart ache for you.

“hi baby!” you chimed.

and that’s all she needed to hear. all of her worries, doubts, all of her anxiety was out the window now. she had just wanted an ounce of your attention all day, and at last, she could relax finally having it.

There's nothin' sweeter than my baby

I'd never want once from the cherry tree

“what did you say?” kate whispered, so shocked that she could hardly speak.

tonight was not a usual one. you had come home upset and stressed out, the past few days you’d been struggling with your mental health. it wasn’t often that you had difficult days, but when you did, kate was at your side and ready to help you in whatever way you needed. but tonight you felt inconsolable.

with kate becoming more popular in the media with her upcoming career, there had been a lot of press coverage. you actually hadn’t had an issue with it, you were thrilled for her to see that she was getting so much attention. but with the praise and positivity online also came the negative parts as well. you had seen a few articles and instagram posts concerning yours and kate’s relationship. seeing your name in bold headlines caught your attention. it was a bunch of nonsense, really, some random person online blabbering about nothing. they were clearly bothered by the fact that you and kate were very much in love, writing about how ‘kate could find someone much better’ or how she ‘should be with someone in her own league’. you tried to remind yourself of how foolish that was, kate loved you deeply and wouldn’t ever think of leaving you for someone else. but, with your history of self image issues and mental health, it was hard to believe it yourself.

“i said,” you were both sat on the couch, thighs barely touching. tears streamed down your face as you had your head turned away from kate. you had seen another one of those damned articles earlier and it seemed to be your breaking point, sending you into a fit of sorrow “i said i don’t know why you’re still with me”

the statement had caught her quite off guard. how could you possibly think such a thing? had kate done something? were you suddenly falling out of love? her heart was shattering as she sat there, desperately trying to figure out what had gotten you upset.

“baby,” her hand found its way to your cheek, gently guiding your head to turn back to her. your eyes were red and your lashes damp as you locked eyes with her “how could you say that? i love you more than anything in the world-i don’t understand”

“i just…i’ve been seeing all of those posts about us, kate” sobs racked your body and you hiccuped to try and catch your breathe “i see all the things they say about us and i can’t help but feel like you deserve more than me”

she had known about those posts for some time now, since she saw you inspecting one the other day. it broke her knowing you were indulging in all the ridiculous things people were saying about your relationship.

“hey hey hey” she wrapped an arm around you, forcing you to move closer to her “i don’t want anyone but you, got it? you have no idea how fucking in love with you i am”

a scoff fell from your lips briefly before you shook your head. you wanted to believe her, but your mind was so convinced otherwise “you’re just saying that”

“well allow me to enlighten you then?” she prodded, wiping the tears from under yours eyes. with reluctance, you nodded.

“i have never loved someone so much in my life” she began “i don’t even know where to start because there’s so much i love about you that it would take forever to say it all. i love the way you love me. how you take care of me all the time without me having to ask. how you make me breakfast in bed and how you brush my hair before we fall asleep. i love how you send me pictures of cute things you see in the store when you should really only be getting groceries. i love that you cry during movies even if it’s supposed to be happy because it shows how deeply you love things. and i love that you always think of people, even though that sometimes means you forget to take care of yourself. but i love that too, i love that i get to be the person that shows you how much love you deserve. that i get to sit here on nights like these and tell you how wonderful you are. because it’s true. honey, you are the best thing that has every happened to me and i’d be fucking crazy to let you go”

she let out a deep sigh, having lost her breath from her confession. if she had anymore air in her, she’d still be rambling on and on. the two of you stared at each other for a faint moment, her blue eyes gleaming back at you. your bottom lip quivered as another tear rolled down your cheek, although this time, it was a cry of joy.

“kate martin,” you muttered, almost speechless “i love you so so much”

she just chuckled softly and smiled at you. she guided you into a much needed hug, feeling your head tuck itself underneath her chin and your arms fall over her shoulders.

“i love you a thousand times more”

'Cause my baby's sweet as can be

She'd give me toothaches just from kissin' me

it was dark outside already, signifying the late hours of the night. you weren’t sure what time it was, definitely late enough that you should be asleep. but instead you and kate were both still up.

the orangey glow from your bedside lamp illuminated your bodies, creating silhouettes on the bedroom wall. kate was laid against the bed, back against the headboard and head tilted back. you were hovering over her as you straddled her waist with legs on either side of her figure. your head dipped down to her exposed neck, lips connecting lazily to her supple skin. eager hands roamed her shoulders and down the sides of her torso. her hands did the same, anxious to touch you wherever she could.

this was another instance in which kate unfortunately had to be away from home for an extended period of time. like every other time, she thought about returning home to you every second that she was gone. she hated not being able to touch you, to feel you, to know that you were right by her side. you had also been yearning for her arrival and hated her absence just as much. so when she was on her way home, she knew she would be having her way with you that night, no matter how late it might be. it may have been well into the early hours of this morning at this point, but the need to be with each other was a far greater need than sleep.

when she stepped foot in that house, she was already dropping her bags at the door and ridding of her shoes. sock clad feet marched quietly up the stairs as she began imagining kissing you for the first time in over a week. she pushed the door to your room open ever so gently, taking in your inviting presence. you had been fighting sleep, she could tell. your eyes peeking through low eyelids, hair messy from laying against the pillows, your lips turned in a sloppy smile. what a sight for sore eyes.

she was tempted to tell you to go to sleep, to get some rest that she knew you needed. but you were already sitting up and crawling over to her side of the bed where she now stood. one of her oversized tshirts hung loosely on your body, your lacey panties emerging from the bottom. before she had the chance to do so much as greet you, your hands were gripping her shirt and tugging her into you. soft lips molded into hers as you frantically kissed her. she took it as a sign that you needed her just as much as she needed you. so she let herself indulge, slithering into bed with you. articles of clothing were discarded to floor. your shirt thrown over your shoulder, kate’s sweatpants and top banished to a pile next to the bed.

now you were here, idly making out, taking each other in as much as possible. one might think you hadn’t seen one another in years by the way you both were acting. your bare chests were pressed together, creating arousing friction. kate’s fingers dug into the soft skin of your ass where her fingernails left small indents. she was breathing heavily and groaning as you left dark purple marks along her collarbone and the tops of her breasts, a reminder of your devotion. her hands pressed deeper into you, guiding your hips in a smooth rhythm of grinding against her lap. the room felt hot from the breathy moans and content sighs.

once you decided you were done marking the skin of kate’s chest, you made your way back to her lips. both of you were too tired to do anything other than this, just needing to be close to each other. not that you needed much else, having her lips on yours was enough to keep you satisfied. it was like your lips were meant for hers. they fit so perfectly together, moved against yours in the most delicious way.

kate let out another moan as she felt your lips grace hers. the sensation sent shivers through her veins. kissing you had to be the best feeling in the world to her. sometimes she felt sorry for the rest of the world, because what a sad life it would be to not know what it would be like to kiss you. and at the same time she felt so damn lucky that it was her, and only her, that got to know what this felt like.

When my time comes around

Lay me gently in the cold, dark earth

No grave can hold my body down…

“i hope you know that i’m absolutely head over heels for you,” she said next to you “you do know that, right?”

you hummed in response, nose scrunching as you looked at her. the amount of guests at your wedding must have been well into the one hundreds, but right here in this moment, it was just the two of you.

underneath a sky full stars was the makeshift dance floor of your wedding venue, marbled tiles beneath your feet. twinkling lights lit up the quaint garden of your backyard that you and kate both decided would be the perfect place to hold your reception. it was the middle of your first dance as a married couple and it was the most perfect moment of your life. your dress swayed behind you in the breeze, hair cascading around your face elegantly. kate looked even more beautiful than she normally did, if that was even possible. both of her hands rested on your waist and your arms looped around her neck as you danced across the floor slowly. your wedding playlist sounded in the distance and your families were watching you with teary eyes, but you and kate were only focused on each other.

“i do,” you replied “i hope you know that i’m also madly in love with you”

“i do” she had repeated like she did during her declaration of intent at the ceremony. you would never forget the look on her face when she’d said it for the first time “i’m never going to get tired of this”

“of what? our first dance?” you laughed, head falling back briefly “hate to break it to you, babe, but i think it’s gonna have to end at some point”

she laughed too, shaking her head. she pulled you in closer as her eyes wandered over the features of your face.

“no” she grinned “of looking at you”

your face was already turning a bright shade of pink, you could feel it as you smiled, but you didn’t mind one bit. you let your arms fall from around her neck as you heard the song of your dance come to an end.

your hands traveled up to take her face in your hands, something you have done often, a small action of your love. they directed her face to drop down to your level. you got onto the tips of your toes to meet her half way, kissing her passionately like your life depended on it. both of you smiled into the kiss, hearing everyone around you cheer as your dance concluded.

and, god, did it feel good to be loved like this.

…I'll crawl home to her

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

A/N: i feel like this started out so good, but then i kinda fucked it up at the end, but i hope you all like it !!

[mionemymind]

Chapter 2: Confessions for You

My Rival Series

Series Summary: The time where Y/n Y/l/n and Wanda Maximoff were academic rivals that fell for each other.

Chapter Summary: Y/n already is losing herself to her studies as competition looms closer and closer.

A/n: Gif credits to @elizabetholsens

Warnings: Rivals to Lovers, Obvious Feelings, Stubborn Reader, Cursing, Alcohol, Puking, Memory Loss? (ish)

Word Count: 5.1k

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 |

Last Month - Spring Semester

‘I fucking hate losing to her.’ Y/n’s fists were tightly clenched as she saw Wanda celebrate another perfect score. The glimmer in her eyes almost made Y/n’s vein burst from anger. The competition was in three weeks and the last day of school was in four weeks. 

It's been almost a month since she spoke to Dean Holloway about her scholarship. Since then, Y/n’s mental health has extremely deteriorated. The lack of sleep and the inability to eat was catching up to the bright student. 

She was making more mistakes in math club, simple ones that even the freshman could do with their eyes closed. Her confidence has gotten lower and lower the more she was unable to perfect her craft. 

And as Y/n stared at the ninety nine written on her test, all emotion was devoid from her. She was tired. Something that Wanda had noticed. The brunette had kept up on her usual appearances around Y/n. She taunted Y/n slightly over scores, grinned at every question she got right at math club, and overall proved to everyone why she was number one. 

But that wasn’t to say that the brunette didn’t notice all the changes happening to Y/n. If anything, Wanda was the first to notice all the changes. She noticed the appearance of deeper eyes bags, the short temper Y/n had over small mistakes, and even worse, the lack of focus Y/n had during lectures. 

There were other changes too like the way Y/n no longer engaged at all to Wanda’s banter. Instead, she would walk away, fists clenched, as if Y/n was holding herself back. Or the times that Wanda no longer spotted Y/n with her friends at all. It was like she was distancing herself from everyone she knew. 

While Wanda tried her best to look out for Y/n, all her kindness turned bitter when she thought of that meeting. 

Sitting across from each other, the two were finishing their project, looking over the final draft before submitting it. Wanda was looking over Y/n’s part of the essay when she came across a large paragraph that contained a lot of circular reasoning and hardly any sources. 

Wanda circled it and leaned forward to show Y/n. “Hey, you made a mist-,” Y/n snatched the paper, already rereading the paragraph at lightening speed. Her shoulders were tense as she squinted her eyes to read the paper better. 

“You didn’t explain your side well enough. I see what you’re trying to say but you end up using circular reasoning to back up your point rather the the sources we’ve gathered.” 

Feeling already embarrassed enough from math club, Y/n had enough. She got up, causing the chair to make a horrible screeching noise. Wanda grimaced at the sound as she noticed Y/n packing up. 

“Where are you-”

“Fuck off, Maximoff. I don’t need your input.” Wanda was caught off guard at Y/n’s hostility, but the smart girl had a sharp tongue and there was no way in hell she was going to allow Y/n to talk to her like that. 

“Clearly you do when you’re making basic mistakes like that.” Y/n scoffed as she stuffed her backup. 

“Always quick to call out someone’s mistakes. Would love for the day someone laughs at yours.” Wanda got up, her chair making the same awful sound. 

“Why are you being so rude? We are doing a peer review. What did you expect? That I let you mess up my grade.” Y/n rolled her eyes as she swung her backup over her shoulder. The zipper was barely over the arch, the swing almost causing her backup to open up. Y/n grabbed the remainder of her stuff and held it.

“You’re the last person I would ever call my peer. Do what you have to Maximoff but I’m fucking done here.” Y/n left without another word.

Wanda stood at her spot, offended at the fact that Y/n even snapped at her. What was worse, she genuinely felt hurt by Y/n’s tone. Y/n had never spoken to her like that, not in the three years they’ve known each other. 

So as she grabbed her stuff, her paper being last, Wanda didn’t notice the lack of marks on her paragraphs. All she noticed was the painful feeling in her heart left by Y/n.

“Okay everyone, let's please settle down so we can talk about the format for this upcoming state competition.” Up at the front of the lecture hall stood Y/n and Wanda. Naturally they stood a couple of feet apart as Wanda took the lead of the meeting. 

“This year we have the amazing honor of bringing in three teams to represent Evergreen University. Fortunately for us, Dean Holloway was able to get the approval to send in another team this year.” There were several claps coming from the students as Y/n somberly looked at the floor. 

‘He just wants to increase the odds of me losing.’ Y/n thought. Noticing that Y/n was not paying attention, Wanda shook her head and continued with the announcement. 

“As tradition has it, we will hold a bracket competition for those that would like to compete. Each team will have four slots to fill. Naturally as your co-captains for the club, we will only have 10 slots available for those that want to participate.” 

Wanda walked over to Y/n, giving her a slight pat on the back as she walked past her. “Your co-captain will list off how the competition will go.” 

Y/n cleared her throat, regaining her focus as she addressed the crowd. “In order to better assess senior and new member abilities, we will be holding a kahoot style competition as this will best mirror the real competition.”

Walking away from Wanda, “In order to avoid embarrassment of who did or did not get the answer correctly, we will be using the clickers that the University has provided our club. On the sign up sheet, I will write down your name beside the clicker number. The top ten members will receive a place for the competition. However, the members that place 11th through 13th will constitute as our substitutes in the case of anything happening to our members.” 

Y/n sat over to the desk of clickers, ready to write. “For those that are not wanting to participate but would like to see who has made it to our team, you are more than welcomed to stay as the questions on the screen will provide great practice. You may start lining up now for your clickers.” Wanda ended her speech with a gratuitous smile. 

A long line of students started to form as Y/n wrote each name down. Coincidentally enough, the first two clickers were reserved for Wanda and Y/n. Unbeknownst to Y/n, she wrote Wanda’s name at first and her name being second. Even her subconscious knew the truth. 

So as Wanda got the questions ready, Y/n sat at the table, away from everyone, hoping that her extreme hours spent studying were going to be worth it. Y/n looked at Wanda who sat with some of her friends in the club. There was still that stupid smile on her face. 

‘Eat dirt.’ Was all Y/n thought as the first question popped up on the screen. 

“Wait - you’re unable to pick me up when spring semester ends? Why?” Y/n sighed, still feeling the bitterness from math club as she sat under a tree that observed the Hodgekins Math building. 

“I’m sorry honey - your father and I are going to attend an important meeting for his company in Europe. Unfortunately, we were unable to reschedule it as your father’s clients were only able during that time to discuss the merge factors. I do hope you understand.” 

Y/n’s eyes teared up, feeling lower than ever before as she spotted Wanda finally leaving the building, the brunette’s words still in her mind. 

“How are you expected to lead when you can’t even get in the top ten?” Wanda whispered as she smiled at the students who made the team. “If you can’t even score top five, how can I trust you? Get your head back or I’m going to have to get someone else to fill your spot.” 

“Can you at least send Percy to help me out?” Y/n wiped her tears before they got a chance to fall. The weight of everything was crushing her down and it felt like no one even noticed. 

“Of course. He’ll be there to help you. How is school going by the way? Are you having fun? Your grades still okay?” Y/n leaned back on the tree, making sure no one was nearby. 

“It's been…okay. My state competition is less than a month away and I’ve been trying my best to study a lot for it.” Y/n bit her cheek, the feeling of losing gripped her heart. “But other than that, my grades are still good.” 

Y/n couldn’t see it, but her Mom was smiling on the other end of the phone. “Is that girl - what’s her name - oh yeah, Wanda, still there?” Y/n froze at the mention of the brunette, even worse, Wanda was oddly walking in her direction.

“Mom - I really don’t want to talk about her.” It’s like no matter what, Wanda somehow managed to pop up everywhere in her life. 

“Well, it has been a while since you’ve talked about her. I was starting to think she was no longer around.” Y/n knew when her Mom was acting oblivious and this happened to be one of those moments. 

“Mom-”

“You know if you can’t stand it just come back home. Your father is more than happy to help you get enrolled into-”

“Mom - I’m not going to Langford University. Dad can keep wishing but I will stay at Evergreen University.” The topic of Langford and her father was always a strain. While Y/n’s father was an alright man and honestly a great father, his vision for Y/n’s future never aligned for what his daughter wanted. 

Ever since she got accepted to Evergreen University, their relationship grew complicated. He even stopped calling after Thanksgiving break of her first semester in college. While Y/n did have a better relationship with her mother, it was still complicated nonetheless. 

“Look, I have to go. I’ll talk to you later Mom. Bye - love you.” Y/n hung up before her mother said anything back. The brunette that’s been in her mind stood right in front of her with a blank look on her face. 

“What do you want?” Wanda rolled her eyes at Y/n’s hostility. She hadn’t even said a word and she’s already managed to piss Y/n off. Had it been earlier in the year, Wanda would have enjoyed just how quick she could get under Y/n’s nerves. But now, Wanda couldn’t stand Y/n either. 

Taking a deep breath, Wanda calmed her anger and said, “Have you thought about what I said?” 

Standing up, Y/n wiped any possible dirt from her pants and glared at Wanda. “Don’t even think about replacing me. I’ll be at the competition and I’ll make sure that my group wins it all.” 

“You better be on your A-game at our next practice. If not, I’m pulling you.” Y/n’s jaw clenched at Wanda’s threat. Who was she to call the shots? They were co-captains after all. 

“Don’t worry your pretty head about me, Maximoff. I’ll be on my best behavior.”

‘I need to focus.’ It was a weeknight. As usual, Y/n was using this time to study for math club. Wanda had sent out a new packet for the competitors to use as practice for the real competition. 

For a majority of the questions, she had gotten ninety seven out of the hundred correct. But Y/n was on the brink of losing it all. She knew that any wrong answer would immediately lead to a Maximoff victory and that was the last thing she wanted. 

‘I need to be perfect.’ Erasing her calculations, Y/n redid it but still wasn’t able to match to the correct answer. Tightening the grip on her pencil, Y/n tried to not let this get to the best of her. But the constant sound of Natasha practicing her guitar started to aggravate her. 

In addition small music was already playing in the background, something Natasha was trying to play along with. So when Y/n redid her calculations once more and still got the wrong answer, she could feel her anger start to resurface. Still, she maintained her best composure and erased the wrong answer. \

Retrying for the third time, Y/n was close to reaching the correct answer when her pencil tip broke. ‘Just bad timing. That’s all. Get a new pencil and move on.’ She spoke internally. But the rational thoughts mixing with her anger were not a good combo. 

Was she hallucinating or was Natasha’s music suddenly getting louder? Ignoring it, Y/n grabbed a new pencil when the sound of a new email alerted her attention to her laptop. Going to Outlook, Y/n looked at the new email, its subject already signaling alarms in her head. 

Dean Holloway 

New Scholarship Requirements 

Feeling all sorts of anger and embarrassment, Y/n broke her pencil and slammed her computer shut. Standing up quickly, Y/n looked at Natasha, and without thinking, said, “Can you please cut that shit off?” 

Y/n was already fuming with anger, not caring if she pissed her best friend at all. At first, Natasha looked shocked at Y/n’s outburst, quickly turning the music off. But the realization of Y/n’s tone offended Natasha. 

“What’s up with you?” Natasha placed the guitar up against the wall. Y/n had never yelled at her like this before. 

“I need to study and I can’t when you’re distracting me.” Y/n waved towards the direction of the speakers and the guitar as if it was so obvious. 

“You could have asked nicely rather than being a dick about it.” Natasha did not like Y/n’s tone one bit. While they were best friends, Natasha did not take shit from anyone. 

“You could have been considerate of other people in the room rather than assuming.” Natasha scoffed knowing that this was not the first time she played music in front of Y/n. Heck, she always played music ever since freshman year of high school. Natasha could vividly recall the amount of times she asked Y/n in the beginning days of them dorming. Y/n would always respond with a smile, saying she never minded. So why would things change now? 

“Bullshit - tell me the real reason.” Natasha stood up and crossed her arms, not giving into Y/n’s lie. 

“I’ve had enough. Maybe that’s the reason.” Natasha rolled her eyes. She walked closer to Y/n, quickly lifting her shirt up to expose just how skinny she had gotten. 

“You’ve hardly been eating.” Feeling defensive, Y/n backed up, pushing her shirt back down. “You hardly sleep anymore. Not only that, I’ve barely been able to speak to you without you running away to study. Something is up. So tell me.” 

Y/n glanced down to the floor. Tears pricked her eyes as she thought of a way to get out of this. Guilt consumed her as quickly as her anger did. And now, she doesn't know what to say. 

So when the red head saw her friend silently cry, her shoulders dropped and immediately went in for a hug. “Whatever is eating you up, just please tell me. I’ll make sure to help you through it so you don’t have to go through it alone.” 

‘If I’m not perfect…I’m going to lose you.’ But as Y/n clutched on to Natasha, no words escaped her mouth for the redhead had enough to worry about. 

Day Before Competition - Spring Semester

“I can’t believe you’re actually going to a party.” Y/n looked over the simple outfit she had on, blue jeans, loose white shirt, and converse. This was the first time she was going to a party, vividly recalling the multiple lies she’s used to get out of one in the past. 

“I don’t understand why this one is suddenly mandatory for club members to go to. We literally have a competition tomorrow.” Today was supposed to be spent for late night studying, but according to Wanda’s orders, this was a must for all twelve members. 

“Who cares? I know you’re going to do well.” Natasha says behind Y/n. The red head admired Y/n’s outfit before looking eyes with her through the mirror. “You’ve been studying your ass off. I just know tomorrow is going to be your day.” 

Y/n didn’t want to overthink Natasha's words. Ever since she outlashed that night, she refused to for her anger to get the best of her even though her circumstances weren’t so great. Offering Natasha a wide smile, Y/n said, “I’ll be only drinking one cup tonight but nothing else. I can’t be too drunk.”

“And I’m going to do the opposite, I will be getting drunk especially since finals are this upcoming week.” 

‘I want to leave.’ Hours into the party, the crowd grew more alive. More people were in the center dancing while many small groups formed around the frat house. The backyard was filled with people vaping or smoking. 

Y/n didn’t quite recognize all that attended the party. If she was being honest, people started to come even when they weren’t part of a club. There were a few outliers from chemistry and movie club, but other than that, the crowd was overwhelming. 

Sipping on the last few bits of her drink, Y/n watched Natasha with a small buzzing feeling. The red head was downing her fifth shot. A smirk was wide spread on her face as she wiped the small bits of tequila that were on the corner of her mouth. The crowd around her cheered as the next person got their shot ready.

Natasha walked to where Y/n was standing and stood beside her. Feeling touchy, she decided to lay her head on Y/n’s shoulder and observed the crowd. She knew a lot of the outliers from the many parties she’s been to. Plus, with how outgoing of a personality Natasha had, a lot of people gravitated towards her. 

But no matter how many people Natasha was friends with, Y/n was always her favorite. The two were opposites but that made the friendship even better. The red head always viewed Y/n as the black cat that never wanted to be petted. But the day she was finally allowed was one that Natasha always remembers. 

“Having fun?” Y/n could smell the alcohol from Natasha’s breath but didn’t mind. 

“A little bit. This drink is helping me not stress so much though.” Natasha smiled at Y/n’s confession. The two didn’t really have a long talk about her outburst many nights ago. And while Natasha always had her guesses, she remained at Y/n’s side, never wanting her best friend to feel alone. 

As for Y/n, vowed to keep her anger in check. While she did still feel irritated at times, she focused on not letting her anger consume her as much. Even with the given circumstances, it wasn’t fair to Natasha or any of her friends to get the short end of the stick. It wasn’t their fault for the way things were. 

“Ya know Nat, for this party to have mandatory attendance, I have not seen Wanda or any of the math club members anywhere.” Natasha looked around the crowd that was in the dance room and couldn’t spot the all too familiar brunette at all. 

“That’s weird. Did y’all agree for a meet up spot?” Y/n shook her head no. 

“I haven’t even gotten a text from Wanda. She’s usually on top of these things.” The two watched for a moment, letting the loud music fill the comfortable silence between them. Wanting to get another shot, Natasha almost left when she saw Wanda amongst the crowd. 

“Why does Wanda affect you so much?” Y/n almost hadn’t heard Natasha’s question, but when Y/n followed the direction of her gaze, she knew. 

“She doesn’t affect me.” Although it was a small buzz, the ability to lie knowing she had drunk a little was all the confidence Y/n needed. 

“Well you talk about her,” Natasha pointed out. “Plus, anytime she’s around, you end up bickering for a while. Sometimes you would go on rants talking about what she said to you during class.”

The blush that appeared on Y/n’s cheek was hard to spot in the dark setting. The brown eyed girl clutched on her red solo cup, feeling embarrassed that she was easily called out with compelling evidence. 

Looking back at Wanda, Y/n could feel her heart rate increase as she saw her talking to other people. There was this different aura surrounding her. Maybe it was the drink or maybe it was the fact that she seemed to really enjoy herself. Like academics wasn’t the only thing she excelled in. 

“Is she the reason you’re acting so differently lately?” Natasha lifted her head as she felt Y/n stiffen up. Feeling like she overstepped, the red head was about to spout an apology.

“Yeah,” Y/n continued to look at Wanda. Even though it was rude to blame the situation on her, it was easier to admit it than speak the truth. “It’s just..I hate Wanda Maximoff. I hate her face and the way she hides her freckles. I hate her smile and how perfect she laughs. I hate how smart she is and how she knows everything. I hate her.” Y/n complained. 

But how could she hate the girl that always took number one in everything? How could she hate the girl that captivated her mind 24/7? How could she hate the girl she would willingly be number two for?

And as Natasha looked back at Wanda then Y/n, a realization suddenly hit her. ‘You like her.’ But Natasha didn’t dare to confess this outloud but it was so obvious. ‘What else would eat her up this way?’ Natasha thought. 

On the other side of the party, Wanda could feel eyes on her. Looking around the room, she finally connected to the brown eyes she knew well. Unknowingly, the sight of Natasha being so close aggravated the brunette for some reason.

But all Wanda could focus on was how soft Y/n’s stare was. There was no jealousy or bitterness about them. And that captivated Wanda even more because this was the first time that Y/n had ever looked at Wanda that way. 

Suddenly, all the air shifted in the room, and Wanda couldn’t help but think, “Why does she hate me?” 

Natasha left after her tenth shot as her girlfriend dragged her away. Feeling no reason to stay any longer, Y/n made her way out the frat house when she bumped into Wanda. 

The red head was unable to stand up straight, almost falling if it weren’t for Y/n’s arms. “Hey - hey - are you okay?” 

Here was the gaze again, the same one Wanda felt half an hour ago. It was almost too much to handle the first time, leading Wanda to drink even more. It was stupid, nonetheless, Wanda was drunk and the very reason why was the same one holding her. 

Feeling too much, Wanda leaned away as she puked into the bush. Almost wanting to puke from the sight, Y/n held Wanda’s hair back as she patted her back. “There - there.” 

Y/n looked around and was thankful that no one was here to witness this scene. As much as she hated Wanda, Y/n didn’t want this image to be in people’s heads. 

Standing back up, Wanda teared up, hating the feeling of puking. 

“Hey - it’s gonna be okay.” Not knowing what compelled her to do this, Y/n used the bottom of her shirt to wipe Wanda’s mouth. She didn’t care if puke got on her. The idea of Wanda crying infront of her was worse than puke. 

“Let me take you back home. You can’t walk in these conditions.” Was Y/n thankful that Wanda had bumped into her? No…well at least that’s what she would say out loud. But as Y/n walked Wanda back to her dorm, the awful thought of Wanda unsafely walking by herself at night made her sick. 

Arriving to dorm 321, Y/n swiped the key card, opening the door to a cold room. Carefully leading Wanda to her bed, Y/n lifted the white duvet, allowing Wanda to crawl in. 

When Wanda looked comfortable, Y/n looked around the room, noticing the minifridge at the corner. Opening it up, Y/n grabbed a water bottle and placed it at Wanda’s nightstand. 

Although Y/n could leave, the sight of Wanda sleeping made her freeze. Many thoughts slipped through her mind, some that she would blame the alcohol on. But there was this worrying feeling in her heart as the thought of Wanda puking in her sleep crossed her mind. 

No one would be able to help her in time considering she didn’t have a roommate. Groaning at her predicament, Y/n looked around the room. There was no spare pillow or blanket. It would be a rough night and the competition was soon. Looking at the clock on her wall, the bus would be ready to leave at 8:00 am giving Y/n around six and half hours to sleep. 

Was it worth it to stay at all? Would Wanda be fine? But as Y/n helped Wanda turn on her side to sleep, the brown eyed girl knew her answer. 

“Wanda, I’m going to be on the floor. If you need anything, just let me know.” There was no response from Wanda. Figuring she could leave before Wanda woke up in the morning, Y/n laid down on the ground, feeling cold from the intense air conditioning.

‘I can’t sleep if I’m freezing to death.’ The thought of using the rug below her as a blanket crossed her mind. Before she could say fuck it, Wanda’s voice caught her attention.

“Why do you hate me?” Glancing towards the bed, Y/n couldn’t see Wanda’s face from her view at the floor. Laying back down, Y/n looked at the ceiling, surprised that Wanda was even up.

“What makes you think that?” It was rude to dampen a drunk girl, that much was common sense for Y/n. So rather than outwardly admit anything, she rediverted it back to Wanda. 

“I can’t recall a moment where you were kind to me.” Y/n froze as she thought about that moment back in the library, wondering if Wanda had her flannel in her dresser. “And I don’t think you’ve said a nice thing about me…so you must hate me.” 

Oh how wrong Wanda was. Because the truth of it all, Y/n never hated Wanda. She could never hate the girl that pushed her to do her best everyday. She could never hate the girl that would go above and beyond for people that need help. She could never hate the girl she lived and breathed for. 

“I have said nice things about you,” Y/n whispered. The two never spoke like this before and it terrified Y/n to even admit such things. “You just have to look inbetween the lines. You’re smart - so I guess I hoped you saw through them.” 

Wanda was too drunk to really recall anything. She wanted so badly to ask but was afraid of the truth. “Are you ready for the competition?” 

Looking back up, Wanda had scooted to the edge of the bed, her eyes connecting with Y/n. “I think so. Do you think you’ll win?” 

Pulling the duvet away from her mouth, Wanda looked away as she said, “If I don’t, I’ll just disappoint my father.” 

“You wouldn’t disappoint me.” Wanda looked back at Y/n. Had she not been drunk, the intensity of her words and stare would have made her combust. 

But as the long night finally reached Wanda, she suddenly fell asleep before she could respond back. “Nothing you could ever do would disappoint me, Wanda.”

Competition Day - Spring Semester

Waking up to the sound of her alarm, Wanda panicked at the time. Immediately rushing to brush her teeth and change her clothes, she rushed out of her dorm, almost forgetting the important papers for the competition. 

As she ran on to the bus, sparing ten minutes, she looked around to see that everyone besides two people were left. The migraine in her head was hard to ignore, regardless, Wanda was thankful that she made it on time. 

Soon, the remainder of the team hopped on board, choosing a free row for themselves. Since it was a four hour ride, Wanda didn’t bother lecturing the team this early about the competition. She could do that later. 

Finding a free row near the front, she sat down at the seat closest to the window. Cursing herself for even drinking so much, Wanda glanced over and noticed that Y/n was across from her. She had jeans and white shirt on with a weird stain at the bottom. 

Wanda almost wanted to yell at her for not being in uniform when she noticed that she was asleep. Feeling another headache, Wanda focused on trying to find medicine in her backpack, the events of last night gone from her memory. 

Taking an ibuprofen, Wanda pulled out her notes and studied some problems. And although she didn’t remember, the girl across from her did as she finally got some sleep, having been up all night making sure that Wanda was safe and sound. 

Chapter 3

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[puckinghischier]

The 7th Year

Nico Hischier x fem!reader

summary: reader wants to celebrate Nico’s 7 year anniversary of being drafted to the Devils

notes: i really wanted to post this on his actual draft anniversary but i’m a slacker and didn’t finish it in time, so here it is now. it still counts cause it’s still draft week, right? anyways, i hope you enjoy and happy reading! 🫶🏼

[4.4k]

“Jack, it’s all wrong!” you cry out, looking at the orange cake sitting in front of you.

“Listen, we can fix it. I can run down to the nearest grocery store and have them make me a new one really quick,” Jack tries to reason with you, attempting to avoid the incoming meltdown.

Today was Nico’s seven-year anniversary of being drafted to the Devils. You know it’s an in-between milestone, most people celebrating every five years, but you didn’t care. You weren’t with him two years ago, having only been dating the hockey captain for a little over a year, so you were determined to make a big deal out of this milestone instead.

Your apartment was decked out in every tacky, red or devil related decoration imaginable, from cardboard cut-outs of Nico littered throughout the large living space to a custom ‘pin the horns on the nico’ party game you ordered for the occasion.

“Jack, I special ordered this cake four months ago, because the bakery he likes had a waiting list almost six months long for their cake decorator. I literally told them I’d pay extra if they could have it done by today,” you shut the lid of the cake box, not wanting to look at the orange monstrosity any longer.

You had sent them several reference pictures of what you wanted done, confirming with them last week that they had the correct pictures and color scheme.

“Well, at least they got the logo right?” Jack tries again, watching you run your hands through your recently curled hair.

People were set to start showing up any minute now, and you were panicking about being ready in time for Nico’s return home in a little over an hour. You barely had time to shower and make yourself presentable after spending all day transforming your apartment into a Nico museum.

All of his trophies and medals from childhood up until now are displayed on various surfaces around your shared apartment, action shot posters are taped on the living room walls, taking the place of your decorative pictures, and several of his old jerseys are on display in shadow boxes propped up in the high-top chairs that usually sit around the small table on your balcony, but are currently placed in various spots around the large room.

“Yeah, sure. The logo says Devils, but the colors say Flyers,” you mumble, pinching the bridge of your nose, trying to stop yourself from crying off your fresh make-up.

Jack had been a trooper today. Luke too. The two of them had shown up to your apartment not even twenty minutes after Nico left with Jesper and Timo this morning for their early tee time. They helped you decorate and arrange your entire apartment, ran all over Hoboken with you grabbing last minute stuff for the evening, and Luke is out right now picking up the catering order that was supposed to be delivered but somehow got marked for pick up.

Your phone starts ringing in the middle of your deep breathing moment, trying to calm your nerves.

“Luke, please tell me you have the food and are on your way home,” you answer the phone, praying Luke is calling to check in and not to give you bad news.

“Yeah, I got it. On my way now. Just calling to check and see if you need anything else while I’m out,” he tells you, the sound of his car door shutting heard in the background.

You breathe out a sigh of relief. At least the food is taken care of, you think to yourself. “No, I think we’re good. I double checked everything before I got in the shower. And Jack has been setting stuff up while I was getting ready. Just please get here in one piece with the food before I have a small stroke,” you attempt a joke, but your tone sounds more strained than anything.

“Aye Aye, Mrs. Captain,” you hear through the phone, picturing the small salute Luke is likely doing right now.

You chuckle out a goodbye and hang up your phone.

“So, am I good to go get changed now, or do you need me to talk you off a ledge right now?” Jack asks you, treading lightly.

You send him an unamused glare. “No, I think I’ve done everything I can do until Luke gets here with the food. Go, change. Shower if you need to,” you wave him off, grabbing the cake on the counter in front of you and walking to place it in the large fridge.

“Alright, but if I hear the balcony door open I won’t hesitate to run out here butt naked to make sure you’re not trying to make an escape,” he sings out as he walks out of your kitchen, turning down the hallway towards your guest bathroom.

You flip him off even though he can’t see you, a smile on your face nonetheless.

Thirty minutes later, Jack is showered and dressed and a few of Nico’s teammates have shown up, decked out in the t-shirts you had ordered and distributed to everyone.

Each of Nico’s teammates are wearing a shirt with his picture from his draft on it. No matter who you were looking at, Nico’s smiling baby face, devils hat on his head and devils jersey pulled over his formal attire, with one finger pointed in the air to signify his being picked first overall, was looking back at you.

You thought it would be funny to have Nico walk into a surprise celebration with his face staring back at him from nearly everyone in attendance, and when you pitched the idea to his teammates they were all for it.

You had ordered your own shirt with Nico’s face on it, too. Although, yours was one of the shirts in the WWE style, overlapping, various pics of Nico making up the design.

As the time got closer to Nico coming home, more and more of his teammates and their significant others showed up, ready to surprise their captain.

Ten minutes before Nico was due arrive, you get a call from Jesper.

“Hey, you guys almost here?” you answer, walking away from the noise of your living room.

“Yeah, leaving the bar now,” he tells you, pausing to bid someone in the background goodbye and ringing out ‘thank you’ a few times as he walks out of the bar.

Jesper and Timo were tasked with keeping Nico busy and away from home today. It started with their game of golf, but quickly turned into an additional eighteen holes and trying to kill time at the clubhouse bar when their games went by far quicker than they anticipated.

Around lunchtime, Timo called you and told you Nico kept saying he was going to bow out early to come home and spend some time with you, but you begged them to find a way to keep him occupied. You ended up having to send him a message, telling him you were out with a friend for a quick lunch before a fake nail appointment that turned into a real one once he asked to see what design you had chosen this time. Which is why you were late getting ready, having to leave Jack to decorate the apartment during your impromptu salon trip.

Most of the time you love that Nico is so invested in your relationship. He always wants to spend time with you, going with you to hair and nail appointments, following you around like a puppy when you go shopping, and simply sticking around the house on days when he has nothing planned just to catch up on your latest reality show obsession he always gets hooked into.

Today, though, you wish he was a little more apt to spending time with his friends. The amount of ‘I miss you’ and ‘can’t wait to come home and binge love island!’ texts you got today made you love him even more – if that’s even possible – but also made your anxiety sky rocket each time, because you know if he wanted to, he would simply leave in the middle of his plans with Timo and Jesper, no amount of convincing able to keep him there.

“Alright, don’t forget your shirts,” you start to remind him. You turn your body to look behind you, hearing a chorus of “Lukey!” and “Moose!” ring out, signaling Luke was finally back with the food. “Hey, I gotta go Jesp, Luke just got back with the food. Be safe!” you rush out before hanging up, making your way back into the small crowd.

You weave through bodies until you reach your kitchen, watching Luke attempt to sit down the large disposable trays.

“Luke, please don’t drop those,” you run over to him, helping him slide the heavy food onto your kitchen island.

You unstack the pans, making sure each one is unharmed and an appropriate distance from the edge of the counter.

“C’mon, Y/N, have a little more faith in me than that. I can carry a few trays of food,” he tells you, dramatically flexing his arms at you.  

You roll your eyes at the curly-headed giant. Checking the time on your phone, you figure you have enough time to try and set up the food a little bit before Nico gets here. Opening the various pans, you freeze.

“Luke…what is this?” you ask him, a cold feeling washing over you.

Luke furrows his brows at you, peeking over your shoulder from his spot behind you. “The food you asked me to get? Is this a trick question?”

You dropped the flimsy lid, condensation from the hot dish flying everywhere.

When you were thinking about what food you wanted to have for the party, you knew it would be in the off-season, the Devils losing their playoff spot pretty early this season. So, you figured it would be a good time to order a few pans of his favorite dishes from his favorite Italian restaurant.

You ordered a pan of their lasagna, chicken parm, and a large pan of a steak and pasta dish specific to the restaurant. You had called them to confirm this morning, which is how you found out it was marked as pick up instead of delivery, causing Luke to have to drive forty-five minutes one way in order to grab the food.

What you were unaware of, however, is the fact that this restaurant, apparently, also caters an array of vegan options.

When you opened the three pans, you were met with a large pan of what looked like roasted cauliflower with tomato sauce, eggplant boats covered in pesto, and what looked like breaded and baked zucchini. 

You had no issue with vegan food, some of it being some of the most delicious food you’ve ever eaten, but this is not at all what you envisioned surprising Nico with.

“I ordered lasagna, chicken parm, and steak pasta. There is no chicken, parm, steak, or layered noodles in front of me right now,” you try to keep your tone even and calm, knowing it’s not Luke’s fault.

“I swear, they handed me the box of food that had your name on it. I even checked the receipt and everything,” Luke defended himself.

You can feel the tears welling up, despite your attempt at taking big, deep breaths to avoid your emotions getting the best of you.

When the first tear falls over, the rest come crashing out before you could even stop them. You bring your face to your hands and start sobbing, upset that you couldn’t have everything be perfect for such an important day for Nico.

“Hey, don’t cry,” Luke coos as he wraps you in a hug, your face still hidden by your hands. “You’re going to ruin your make-up. You don’t want to greet Nico while looking like a little raccoon, do you?” you let out a chuckle at Luke’s words, his attempt at cheering you up working for a quick moment.

You bring your hands away from your face, sniffling and trying to carefully wipe your eyes. Luke keeps you trapped in a hug, giving you a few moments to collect yourself before stepping back, rubbing your arms instead.

“I just wanted everything to be perfect. I wanted Nico to walk in here and see all of his friends here, ready to celebrate him. I wanted to surprise him with his favorite meal and his favorite cake from his favorite bakery, since he doesn’t ever get this stuff during the season. But instead he gets an orange cake and a vegan dinner,” you huff, gesturing to the food in front of you.

“Well, he’ll definitely be surprised,” Luke attempts another joke, this one earning a sarcastic laugh instead of a genuine one. “Listen, we can fix it, okay? We’ll call the place and get a refund then order a few pizzas, alright? It’ll be fine. Everyone likes pizza.”

He bends his knees so he’s eye level with you, trying to gauge your reaction to his suggestion.

You look over to the food on the counter, bringing a sliver of your bottom lip in-between your teeth, mulling the idea over in your head.

“Yeah, we can do that. Everyone does like pizza, don’t they?” you try to convince yourself pizza will be fine, you could just take Nico out to dinner for his Italian food later this week.

“They sure do. And lucky for you, I have the best pizzeria in Hoboken on speed dial. I’ll make them do a rush order for their favorite customer,” Luke winks down at you, stepping away to pull out his phone and make the last-minute order.

You cover the food in front of you back up, picking up each tray and tossing them in the trash can at the end of your island, knowing that a group of hungry hockey players wouldn’t want three trays worth of vegetables to eat for party food.

You stand in the middle of the kitchen, trying to compose yourself and wipe away any mascara residue when Jack comes running through the open doorway, frantic eyes landing on you.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? Why do you look like you’ve been crying? Jesper just texted and said they’re on the elevator on their way up,” he rushes out, walking towards you to make sure you’re alright.

“Catering mishap, Luke’s ordering pizza now. Don’t worry, I’m fine. Go grab him, quick,” you suddenly perk up, nerves bubbling in your stomach.

As you follow Jack out of the kitchen and make your way to the front of the small crowd at the end of your entry way, all you can think about is hoping Nico likes what you’ve done. You hope he doesn’t think the decorations are too tacky, or that the shirts are weird. You hope he’s okay with eating greasy pizza and orange cake. You hope he likes the custom Halifax and Devils split jersey you plan to gift him later to represent where he started and where he is now. Overall, you just hope he understands how proud you are of him.

You see Jack and Luke walk up beside you out of the corner of your eye, matching with the rest of their teammates that are surrounding you. Luke leans down to whisper “Pizza’s ordered, it’ll be here in twenty,” into your ear before standing back to his original height and facing forward, waiting on his captain to walk through the door.

You’re suddenly hit with a thought about how thankful you are for the people surrounding you. For Jack and Luke who dealt with your demanding and crazy self today, talking you off of ledges and running around doing your bidding all day long. You’re thankful for the teammates that showed up today, ready to celebrate the captain they love almost as much as you do. You’re thankful for Timo and Jesper, making sure Nico stays in the dark about the surprise, doing everything in their power to keep him out of your hair until this moment.

You’re so incredibly thankful that the universe has allowed you to not only love someone as kind, loving, and special as Nico, but that he loves you back just as much. You also gained an entire family through Nico, his teammates treating you like one of their own, showing you just as much love and care as they do him. You’ve found some of your best friends through him, Jack, Luke, Timo, and Jesper being four of the best people you’ve ever had in your life.

The sound of the front door opening distracts you from your sentimental thoughts. You see Jesper enter first, his Nico shirt looking a little out of place paired with his golf pants. Nico follows him in, blindfolded. You have to stop a snort from making its way out, not knowing Timo and Jesper were going to resort to blindfolding him. Timo follows a step behind Nico, hands on his shoulders, guiding him and preventing him from bumping into anything.

Timo guides him to a few feet in front of you, stopping him before dropping his hands from his shoulders.

“Alright, Cap, you can take your blindfold off now,” Jesper tells him, him and Timo quickly stepping over to where you stand, joining the rest of their team.

Nico reaches up the untie the blindfold on his head. “I swear to god, if you guys did this just to mess with me and take me to another bar I’m going to kill both of you. I told you I just wanted to go home to Y/N-“ Nico stops mid-sentence when the cloth falls into his hands.

A loud, “Surprise!” rings out around the room, Nico’s eyes darting to each person, then down to their shirts.

You stand there, smiling at his shocked face.

“What-“ he starts, but stops, speechless at the scene in front of him.

You step forward the few feet to him, his gaze finally landing on you.

“Happy draft anniversary, baby,” you tell him, smiling up at him.

He looks down at you, eyebrows furrowing. You can tell he didn’t remember what day it was until this moment, his eyes looking around the room again, understanding settling in on the choice of shirts.

“You did all this? For me?” he asks, a smile taking over his face as he looks down on you.

“Well, duh,” you tell him. “Your seven-year draft anniversary is a big deal, you know?”

He beams down at you, the amount of love in his eyes enough to nearly knock you down.

“I love you, you know that?” he asks, wrapping his arms around you, pulling your body close to his.

“I think you’ve told me once or twice,” you tease.

He rolls his eyes at you, bringing his lips down to meet yours. The kiss is innocent and sweet, considering most of his team is stood behind you, but it was enough to cause a feeling of warmth to wash over you, all the way down to your toes.

When you pull back from the kiss you can’t help but to keep smiling at him. “Alright, go greet your teammates now. I’ll find you later,” you tell him, patting him on the chest as you step back.

Nico gives you a wink before he walks over to his friends and teammates, making his way through hugs and handshakes.

You mostly sit back and observe for most of the night, splitting off from the festivities when the pizza was delivered, placing it in the kitchen and announcing everyone to just serve themselves.

You make your way around your apartment, conversing with Nico’s various coworkers. You cross paths with Nico a few times, each time he tried to whisk you away to your shared bedroom, but you insisted he have a good time with his friends, there’ll be plenty of time for the two of you later. You stick around Jack and Luke some, but finding yourself in a corner talking to Nicole, Jesper’s girlfriend towards the end of the night.

“Y/N, seriously, this is great. I wish I would have thought of something like this for Jesper. Nico hit the jackpot with you,” Nicole compliments.

Your cheeks redden. “He deserves it. I mean, he left everything he’d ever known in Switzerland to come here and pursue this. And look how well he did for himself,” you turn to look over at him standing with Jonas and Erik, Jonas attempting his turn at pinning the devil horns on the large poster of Nico on the wall.

You’ve always been amazed at Nico’s bravery and determination to pursue this dream, knowing how hard it was for you to move just a few states away from your family, much less halfway across the world. He proved every single person that told him he wouldn’t make it wrong, not only getting drafted, but being the first overall pick. And now he earned his captaincy on top of that, proving he’s not only a phenomenal player, but an even better teammate and leader.

“I think he did very well for himself, and not just in reference to hockey, either,” she tells you, leaning over and placing a hand on your leg to emphasize her point.

You look down, not particularly knowing how to respond to her compliments.

“Hey, Y/N, want us to stick around and help clean up,” you hear a voice ask you, turning around to see only Jack, Luke, Jesper and Timo remaining.

Nico walks over to you as Nicole stands and joins Jesper.

“Nah, you guys head out. We’ll call you tomorrow if we need any help,” Nico answers for you, standing behind you and placing his hands on your shoulders, giving them a light squeeze.

“That’s code for ‘get out you goons, I’m trying to be alone with my girl right now,’” Jack says, earning a chuckle from the group.

You and Nico walk everyone to the door, saying your goodbyes before shutting the apartment door and turning around to observe the state of your apartment.

“Don’t even think about trying to clean anything up tonight. You’re not lifting a finger for the rest of the night,” Nico threatens, slipping his arms around your torso from behind, burying his face in your neck.

“C’mon, at least let me clean up the cups your lazy teammates didn’t throw away,” you pat his hands, starting to walk him over to start picking up the red, plastic cups.

“Alright, but after that we’re going to the bedroom and aren’t leaving until this time tomorrow,” Nico points a finger at you as he separates from your body.

The two of you gather all of the stray cups, bringing them into the kitchen to throw them away. You notice the empty pizza boxes, breaking a few of them down while asking Nico to put the leftovers in your fridge so they don’t ruin.

“What’s in the box?” he asks, grabbing the white cake box and dragging it out of the fridge.

“Oh no! I totally forgot about the cake!” you exclaim.

“You bought me a cake?” Nico opens the box.

He looks up at you, amusement in his eyes. “Schatz, why did you get me an orange Devils cake?”

You groan, bringing your hands up to rake them down your face.

“It was supposed to be red, but the bakery fucked it up and I didn’t know until they delivered it,” you explained, walking over to stand next to him as he looks between the cake and you.

“The catering was messed up too,” you continued. “I tried to order your favorite dishes from that Italian place you like, but they sent a bunch of vegan dishes instead, so Luke had to order pizza last minute.”

Nico lets out a laugh at your confession. “So, you threw me a draft anniversary party with an orange cake and vegan food?” he teases, closing the lid to the cake box and turning his body to face you.

You give him a pout. “Don’t make fun of me, I was trying to be nice to you.”

This earns another laugh, Nico placing his hands on either side of your pouting face.

“You could have thrown me a party with water soup as the entrée and ice cubes as appetizers and I would still think it’s the best party I’ve ever been to, simply because you planned it,” he tells you, looking down into your eyes.

“You meant it? You enjoyed yourself tonight?” you ask him earnestly, that small seed of worry making its way back into your brain.

Nico doesn’t answer, he leans down to kiss you for the second time that night. This time, though, he wasn’t as slow and sweet as he was when you had an audience.

His kiss isn’t rushed, but with his tongue slipping its way into your mouth, it quickly turns into a partial make-out session in your kitchen.

He pulls back once the two of you need to come up for air, resting his forehead against yours.

“I had a blast tonight. The shirts were a nice touch, by the way,” he smirks at you.

You let out a giggle, thinking of how funny it was when he registered all of his teammates were wearing his face on their chest.

“Thank you, seriously,” his tone turns serious. “I can’t even begin to explain to you what this means to me. I just wish I could’ve had you by my side from the start.”

You look at him through his long lashes, not being able to think about anything except for how much you love him at this moment.

“Well, you’ll have me until the end of it. Or until you get sick of me, whichever comes first,” you joke, causing Nico to pull his forehead back from yours.

He uses his hands that are still on your face to tilt your head up to look at him. “Not possible. If anyone gets sick of anyone around here it’s going to be you getting sick of me, because I never want to be anywhere but by your side.”

You just stare up at him, shaking your head in a no motion, the intensity of his stare taking any words from the tip of your tongue.

You both just stand there, staring at each other for what feels like hours, but was really just a few moments.

“Enough of us just standing in the kitchen, I think it’s time we take this little party to our bedroom so I can really show you how thankful I am,” he breaks the silence, his eyes going from love to lust before you could even blink.

He doesn’t give you a chance to respond, just throwing you over his shoulder while you squeal, carrying you to your bedroom. As you pass all of the decorations on the hallway walls on your way to the bedroom, you’re already thinking of how you can make year eight’s anniversary even better, especially if Nico is as thankful next year as he proves to be this year, thanking you over and over and over again once you reach your bedroom.

[jareaul0ver]

Thinking about Nika and reader getting into a big fight bc reader feels like Nika has been neglecting her and the relationship due to basketball and then Nika trying to get her back ….

wc: 2k warnings: angst to fluff, happy ending!!, nika being a bad, neglectful gf at first, basically all stated in the request pairings: nika muhl x fem!reader

Nika had always treated basketball like it was the only thing in her life that mattered. For the most part that was true. Sure, she had her family, but they were back in Croatia and there was only so much she could do with that situation.

Then you came into her life, flipping her world upside down. Sometimes basketball was pushed to the back of her mind when she was with you. She valued the way you could help her wind down after a tough practice, or if they lost a game you knew exactly how to make her forget about it.

But that was all in college. After she got drafted, things started to change. She wasn't getting the same playing time she used to, which greatly affected her mood.

You reassured her after each game that it was just because it was so early in the season, and that you were sure she'd get playing time as everything progressed.

She didn't listen, though. She was out for most hours of the day. At team practices, weight training, and dragging into her own personal time with extra workouts and practice drills.

Her mindset was that if her playing was perfect, she'd get time. But it still didn't help.

At this point, you barely saw her. Even with living in the same apartment, she'd pretty much only be there in the very early morning or very late night, mostly while you were asleep.

Not only was her being in the W affecting her, it was affect you and your relationship with her. She was pulling away from you, whether she realized it or not, and it was hurting you more than she knew.

It was a late night for you. You were working on the final touches of a paper for one of your summer grad school classes, sitting on yours and Nika's shared bed which had felt incredibly empty for the past few months.

She walked through the door, her eyebrows shooting up in surprise when she saw you still awake. "What're you doing up?" She said quietly before going over to grab clothes to change into from the dresser.

"Finishing up the paper I've been working on for class," you mumbled. You had mentioned it to her before, as she had caught you working on it in the late nights and early mornings, but it seemed to have slipped her mind.

"Oh," was all she managed before changing into clothes to sleep in.

You sighed and looked up at her. "I've mentioned it to you before, you've seen me working on it before," you said, frustration laced in your tone.

Her brow furrowed as she looked at you. "You don't need to get pissy with me, I just forgot."

"You've been forgetting a lot of things lately, Nika," you let out a shaky breath, pushing your laptop off of your lap and sliding out of bed. "Christ, you almost forgot our anniversary a few weeks ago."

"Sorry I've been busy, I've had a lot on my mind," she said firmly.

You pinched the bridge of your nose. "Nika, all you've been doing is basketball ten times over. Extra training, practice, whatever you can find. You're never home. You're never with me anymore."

She froze for a second before opening her mouth to speak, but you cut her off with the wave of a hand. "Don't even start," you started to raise your voice. "I- no, our relationship has been on the backburner ever since you got drafted! I get it, babe, it's important to you, and it takes a lot of time and effort but-"

Your voice cracked and tears welled in your eyes. "You've been gone, Nika. For months, I've felt like I've been on my own. Sometimes it just feels like I'm in a one sided relationship, like you don't want me anymore."

Nika's face fell at your words, and she felt a pit forming in her stomach. She stepped towards you, bringing her hands up to cup your face, wiping a tear with the pad of her thumb. "I- I'm sorry, bebo, I don't want you to feel that way, but-"

You scoffed and stepped back. "There's always a but, isn't there," you said flatly. With a shake of your head you turned towards the bedroom door. "I'm sleeping on the couch. Less room for it to feel so empty," you spat with a shaky voice before leaving the room.

The door shut and Nika looked down at the ground, her hands now on her hips as she stood there, letting every word you said sink in.

She realized now that she was losing you, that you were slipping away, and it was all her fault. She had been so absorbed by basketball that she forgot about you.

There had never been a day in her life where she felt worse. Not when she couldn't play because of her visa issues, not when she hurt her ankle for the first time, not even when she had to leave her family back in Croatia to play basketball.

No, this was the worst day of her life. Her coming to the realization that she might wake up tomorrow and you aren't in the apartment. All your things could be gone. You could block her number, her socials, erase her from your life completely, and it would be her fault.

Tears welled in her eyes as she thought of this. The idea of you leaving is her worst fear, and she would do damn near anything to make sure it wouldn't happen.

So the next morning she checked the couch, immensely relieved that you were still sleeping somewhat peacefully out there. Although she wasn't with you, she was glad she still had you.

Before she left for practice with the team, she wrote a small note for you and left it in your underwear drawer, where she was sure you would see it.

Eventually you woke up, immediately checking the bedroom to see if Nika was miraculously here. You knew she wouldn't be, but it still hurt to see an empty bed.

You had an interview with a possible employer in a few hours, so you got ready. You walked into the bedroom with only a towel covering your body, and opened your underwear drawer, and look of confusion first on your face when you saw the note.

You picked it up and read over it, "I'm so sorry baby, I promise I'm going to make it up to you. Don't make any plans for tonight, I'll be home after your interview. - Love you."

A sigh fell from your lips, but your face softened. You hoped and prayed that she would stay true to her word, this being a turning point in your flatlining relationship.

But you held back from fully believing it, part of you expecting a disappointing outcome.

You finished getting ready for the interview and left the apartment, your mind immediately cleared from everything going on with Nika the second you got into your car.

Nika sat on the couch as she anxiously waited for you to get home. She was wearing a black top with a matching black skirt that you had gotten her for her birthday this year. She had a pair of short black heels to match, and her hair and makeup was done.

You walked into the apartment, your back turned towards her at first as you closed the door, but once you turned around your eyes widened a little.

She stood up and took a deep breath, taking a step towards you. "Hey, how was your interview?"

You blinked a few times before responding. "Oh, um, it went well I think," you said softly.

Nika nodded slightly before turning to the direction of the coffee table and picking up a small bouquet of your favorite flowers. She turned back around and took a few more steps towards you, now leaving you guys only a few feet apart.

"Got these for you, as the beginning of an apology gift, I guess," she said, her voice barely above a whisper as she held them out.

You looked at her hesitantly before taking them. "Beginning?"

She nodded and stepped forward, almost closing the gap between the two of you. You reached over and placed them on the table near the entrance of your apartment, fully giving her your attention.

"God, bebo, I'm so sorry. For everything. For treating you the way I have been, not being there, forgetting important things. I can't even put it into words how sorry I am," she said with a long breath. "And I know sorry isn't gonna fix it, but I'm trying to, okay? I am."

You stared at her, your face softening a bit at her words. "It's gonna take a lot more than a bouquet of flowers to fix everything, Nika," you uttered, your voice soft but serious.

"I know. Of course it is, but that's not all I have planned for tonight, okay? I- I got us a reservation at that one Italian place you like that's not too far from here. The nice one." Her voice was tinged with desperation, longing to have you back with her, to belong to her again.

Nika told you it was in an hour, so you nodded and went to the bedroom to get ready. It didn't take you long, as all you had to do was touch up your makeup and change your outfit.

Once you came out of the bedroom, Nika was practically giving you heart eyes. It had been so long since she'd seen you like this, all dolled up in a pretty little dress, ready for date night.

She walked over to you, hesitantly grabbing your hands. You let her, and looked up into her soft brown eyes. "You look gorgeous, bebo," she whispered.

You couldn't help but blush a little, that feeling of before you and Nika drifted coming back to fill your senses. Her touch on your hands practically set you on fire. It had been so long since you two actually touched, not just in passing, or snuggling in the middle of the night.

But a long, snug grip that sent flutters throughout your chest.

"You do too," you said softly to her, squeezing her hands gently. She smiled a little and started pulling you towards the door, ready to leave for dinner.

You were returning home from dinner with her. It was almost perfect. You talked and laughed and everything felt like it should again. When you walked into the apartment, you gently tugged on Nika's hand. "We really should talk about everything more."

She faced you and nodded. "Yeah, of course, let's go talk," she gently dragged you over to the couch and sat down, waiting for you to do the same.

You sat down after her, barely leaving any space between the two of you. All it took was a deep breath from the both of you before you spoke, your voice soft. "Tonight was... amazing. It's everything I've been wanting for the past few months and more, but it doesn't fix everything."

She gazed at you intently, absorbing every word you said. "I know, and I don't expect everything to be fixed."

You nodded, appreciating her listening to you. "And I forgive you, because it's really hard not to," you said with a small laugh. "But it's gonna take a while for things to go back to normal. And it's gonna take effort."

Nika hummed softly her hands finding yours again as you spoke. "I don't want things to go back to how they were, you barely being home, pushing me away because you're so zoned in on basketball. I want you. I want my Nika back."

She thought she could cry at your words, seeing the hurt evident on your face, hearing it subtly in your tone as you spoke. "I'm back, baby. I'm back, and I'm not going anywhere, I promise. And I'm gonna work every day to prove that to you."

You pulled your hands away from hers to bring them up to her face, cupping her cheeks gently against your palms. "I love you," you whispered.

"I love you," she said immediately, "so much."

You leaned in slightly, gently pressing your lips to hers, igniting a much needed kiss between the two of you. "I'm not going anywhere ever again, promise," she mumbled against your lips.

wow im back hi sorry for not writing for so long, ive had bad writers block and since its the summer ive been doing a lotta stuff keeping me busy, but hopefully im back for good now <3

[swissboyhisch]

The Littlest Devil

Pairing: Jack Hughes x Reader

Summary: The team were excited to meet baby Hughes. But you got to surprise the team when they come to visit for the first time.

Word Count: 574

Warnings: Babys and fluff

A/N: Shout out to one of my friends on here! My darling mutual asked for Dad!Jack and here it is.

THE MASTERLIST JOIN THE TAGLIST HOCKEY DISCORD

With the Devils’ season finished it meant your boyfriend could spend time at home with you and your newborn daughter. The little girl was 2 weeks old, and you had spent the weeks tucked in bed with your mother-in-law waiting on you, hand and foot. You were allowed to leave the bed. If it wasn’t Ellen, it was one of the other girlfriends or wives you were close with from the team. They had supported you well while Jack had been finishing the rest of the season. 

“Are you sure you want the team to come over?” Jack asked for the millionth time as you got dressed in something other than pyjamas. “We can always reschedule if you’re not feeling up to it.”

You rolled your eyes at Jack’s protectiveness but wasn’t surprised. He was holding your baby girl against his bare chest as you changed. He swayed side to side, pressing a kiss to her head. The two of you stand and admire your baby when you finish getting dressed. She looked so much like you but with Jack’s eyes and a hint of curls on her head. Just like her daddy.

“I want to see my niece,” a voice spoke up coming up the stairs. Luke poked his head in and lit up seeing Jack hold his niece. He immediately held out his arms as he closed in on Jack. “Give her here.”

Jack relented after Luke didn’t take no for an answer. He passed Luke the bub before he moved to hug you once more. The man looked into the mirror and admired you, swaying gently so as to not hurt you. 

“I’m out,” Luke chuckles when the two of you hug, taking the bub downstairs to leave you alone for a moment.

The pair of you took a moment to yourself. Jack smiles and twirls you slowly to admire the outfit. Seeing you thrive as a mother was making him love you so much more. The quiet moment between you was broken by the doorbell. You could hear the bell ring through the house.

“Some of your guests are here,” Ellen smiles as she spies you two coming down the stairs.

Jack was so excited to introduce his gorgeous girl to his favourite people in the world. Luke made sure to stay hidden from the team so as to not ruin you and Jack’s moment. Luke passed your little girl back to Jack before going into the lounge room first where the team was gathered. You and your little family took a moment before stepping into the view. 

“Looking hot mama,” Nico grinned, going to hug you. 

“Thanks Cap,” You smile, accepting the hug.

Nico turned to his best friend and awed when he saw your baby up close. She was the perfect mix of the two of you if you ask him. The cute little New Jersey Devils jumpsuit was the perfect outfit to introduce her to the team. 

Jack grinned, passing the babe to Nico, the guy who took him under his wing when he was first drafted, “It’s only fair the captain holds her first.”

“What’s her name? You didn’t tell us,” Dawson asks from his spot on the couch. 

“Nicola,” Jack reveals with a big grin, “Nicola Ellen Hughes. Named after my best friend who took me under his wing when I was drafted first to New Jersey just like him.”

TAG LIST:

@findapenny @mp0625 @hischierhaze @11zegras @lvrzegras 

@francesfarhadi @cixrosie @dasiysthings @dancerbailey3 @puckmaidens 

@cole-mcward48 @sammiejane22 @rleigh-47 @Devilsandpensfan @luca-fantilli 

@books-hlmc @kajasagmo @poufsouffle21 @linneasblog

[whats-her-quirk]

Lover, You Should’ve Come Over

The two of you aren’t exactly quiet when you sneak off to the bathroom together at all hours, but Zoro has always been quick to turn the corner and walk away. Seeing is very different. There’s nothing left to imagine anymore. He knows exactly what it looks like now—the cook picking you apart, piece by piece, until you shatter.

roronoa zoro x reader x black leg sanji

rating: explicit, 18+

warnings: jealous zoro (who doesn’t quite understand his emotions), exhibitionism turned threesome, oral (female receiving), vaginal sex, fingering, hand jobs, slight belly bulge, cum play, praise, size kink, multiple orgasms, the boys kiss too, not quite gay panic just cook panic, welcome to the zosanwich

word count: 2.7k

welcome to the fantasy that has been keeping me going while sitting in my drafts for over a year

♪ lover, you should’ve come over by jeff buckley

divider by @/cafekitsune

You’re sitting in the cook’s lap again. The dirty plates from dinner are stacked up, everyone except your bottomless pit of a captain finished eating. As you lounge around the table to rest and chatter over drinks, you slide into his lap, one arm draped over his shoulder while his hand wanders your hip and waist.

Zoro doesn’t believe it. He doesn’t buy that in the weeks since you joined the crew, the shitty cook managed to not only catch your attention but actually seal the deal. What could you possibly see in him? When you got here, he was still chasing after Nami and Robin. Now that idiot’s so busy touching and kissing you that he hardly glances at anyone else.

It just can’t be real, Zoro thinks, even as he watches the cook pluck the cigarette out of his mouth so he can plant a kiss on your neck. You’re focused on something Chopper’s saying, so it catches you by surprise, making you giggle and tug at the front of his shirt. He steals another kiss from the corner of your jaw before taking a long, satisfied drag from his cigarette. Zoro stares, unnoticed, and feels his face getting hot.

He truly doesn’t believe it, and when the kitchen clears out, he pins the cook against the wall and tells him so.

“Did I forget something? Your midnight snack?” Even with Zoro’s forearm across his chest, the cook is smirking.

Despite his annoyance, Zoro keeps his voice down. “Tell me what’s really going on between you and our new crewmate.”

The cook blows smoke out of the corner of his mouth. He pushes Zoro’s arm away, but only because Zoro lets him. Now that he’s asked the question, Zoro knows the other man can’t simply walk away from it.

The cook takes the cigarette from his mouth and rolls it coyly between his fingers. “What’s there to tell? We’re together now, I thought that was obvious.”

“Give me a break. What would she want you for?”

“So you’re asking about the dirty details then?” he clicks his tongue, turning his back to leave. “And they call me a pervert.”

Zoro scoffs. “Don't expect me to believe you can please her. You couldn’t please anyone.”

The cook turns on his heel. His brow creased, he looks Zoro up and down at point blank range. “Really? I’ll prove it.”

Zoro is watching you again, this time from one of the plush chairs in the women’s quarters, pointed at the corner of your bed. Though he can hardly believe he agreed to this, he can’t leave now. You’re a feast for his eye, stripped bare and legs spread on your mattress, even if he has to look past the cook to see you.

Robin and Nami have been persuaded to take lookout duty together, and the door is locked, ensuring your privacy. Regardless, Zoro feels more like an intruder than a fly on the wall. He’s supposed to be here to make a point, to scratch an itch and satisfy his curiosity so that maybe seeing the two of you together will stop bothering him so goddamn much. But no matter how good you look like this, no matter how much it makes his cock twitch every time you gasp and moan and writhe underneath that bastard cook, he can’t shake the feeling that he shouldn’t be here.

Yet he can’t tear himself away.

It’s something like torture to watch the cook bring you to your first orgasm with his hands and his mouth, every wet sound and throaty groan lewder than the last. He kneels on the floor at the end of the bed, your legs thrown over his shoulders, skillful fingers thrusting inside while he devours you like he’s starving. You fist the sheets and the cook’s hair like you’ll tear both to shreds. Zoro has to lean back in his chair, cross his legs, and put one hand over his mouth just to keep himself in check.

If there’s one thing he has, it’s willpower. He can get through this. If he has to take care of himself in the shower later on, so be it. The scene in front of him will be burned into his memory for eternity anyway.

After you finally break with his name on your lips, the cook rushes to kiss you, pushing you up the bed so he can crawl on top. He praises you between messy swirls of his tongue, dry humping before he’s even inside you like he can’t help it. You guide his head down to your chest so you can catch your breath, and he kisses the tops of your breasts instead. Zoro bites his lip.

It’s pathetic. Zoro should be disgusted. Instead, he’s out of breath and embarrassingly hard. He’s just grateful you’re not looking at him.

Once your hips are rolling just as desperately, you take his cock in your hand and lead the cook to you with a shuddering moan. Even from a few feet away, Zoro can hear how wet you are. It makes him shiver. Shallow thrusts become deeper, familiar bodies slotting together until your hips meet and begin to grind. When the cook starts to whine, Zoro starts to lose himself.

He’s heard it before, though he pretended not to. The two of you aren’t exactly quiet when you sneak off to the bathroom together at all hours, but Zoro has always been quick to turn the corner and walk away. Seeing is very different. There’s nothing left to imagine anymore. He knows exactly what it looks like now—the cook picking you apart, piece by piece, until you shatter.

He can’t help it anymore. Zoro’s knees are shaking, he’s so turned on. He stares at your fingers, at the way they’re digging into the cook’s lower back, and presses the heel of his own hand between his legs. The relief is instant, and so is the hiss that escapes his lips as he throws his head back. It’s shameful how badly he needs to be touched right now.

So is the way he finds you watching him when he looks up again.

His entire body pulses—is his heart pounding as loud as he thinks it is?—while you scramble for the cook’s shoulders, pawing for his attention. Is this it? Should he just leave? As ashamed as he is, he really doesn’t want to.

“Sanji, baby,” you ask, your eyes locked with Zoro’s. “Can he come over here?”

The cook slows to a stop. You cup his face while he pants for breath. Zoro swallows thickly, frozen, waiting. He’s never felt like this, like his head is barely above water, and that alone scares him.

The cook halfheartedly chuckles, wiping some sweat from your brow. It’s easy to forget he’s still inside you until his voice comes out soft but wrecked at the same time. “Didn’t know you wanted him too, my love.”

You nod, coy but enthusiastic. Zoro nearly chokes.

The cook kisses your cheek, then your neck. “As you wish.”

Over his shoulder, as if he knows Zoro can’t resist, the cook calls, “You heard the lady, moss head.”

Undressing is a blur. Boots are tossed aside. Swords clatter to the floor. Earrings clink together as Zoro pulls his threadbare shirt off his back. Before he realizes it, he’s standing there naked next to the bed, practically panting, not knowing what to do with himself.

You reach for his hand. He lets you take it and pull him in. “Come closer,” you beckon. “You can touch me. It’s ok.”

He sits down, leaning against the headboard, and lets you settle between his legs, only a little self conscious that his boner is touching the soft, slick skin of your back. You nestle yourself so sweetly in the notch of his shoulder, right over the edge of his battle scar. You place his hands around your middle, then drape yours around the back of his neck, securing yourself in place.

“Keep going, Sanji,” you purr.

From this angle, looking down over your shoulder, Zoro watches the cook slide back inside you. He feels filthy for groaning, but he can’t stop it from tumbling out.

His hands shake against your stomach as you find your rhythm again. The cook curls himself over you, watching too as he sinks his cock inside you again and again. His head is tilted down, hair covering both eyes, but he’s moaning so close to Zoro’s face with each forward thrust. Each sound burns in the pit of Zoro’s stomach.

You said he could touch you, right? Experimentally, he paws just below your navel, pressing his big hands into the soft flesh there. Your head rolls to the side, your lips grazing the side of his neck as you beg, “more, Zoro.”

He can barely breathe as he pushes just a little harder. Oh god, he can feel the cook inside you, the slight bulge pushing in and out. The weight and the sound of it, this melding of bodies, is all too much, and yet Zoro needs more.

Zoro slides one hand down and wraps it around the base of the other man’s cock where it disappears inside you.

“Fuck, oh fuck,” the cook swears. His head rolls on his neck, his chin craning back. His hair falls away from his face, giving Zoro the clearest view he’s ever had of both his eyes at once, his heavy lids fluttering and both curly brows knitting together in the center of his flushed forehead.

Zoro torques his hand over, putting his thumb on top, doing his best to swipe against your clit as you grind up. You press your face deeper into Zoro’s neck, your moans higher pitched and more broken than before. He thinks he hears your choke, “please.”

“I got you,” he promises, huffing against your temple. He cradles your face with his free hand, needing to hold you, desperate to give you anything you want. “You’re ok, I got you,” he groans as the underside of his own cock slides against your back.

He doesn’t know what the hell he’s saying, but he has to say it. He feels the heat of your face against his lips and stares right at the cook’s open, wet, whimpering mouth and says, “Both of you. I got you.”

The cook cries out, his hips jutting forward, and finishes, shaking. Zoro tightens his grip, tries to prolong the other man’s peak until he’s spent. Your back arches sharply against Zoro with your own release—he can feel a string of his precum pull and snap between you. It’s disgusting; it’s so hot he can’t stand it.

The room feels too quiet, suddenly. All Zoro can hear is huffing breath and the pounding of his own heart. Finally, the cook seals his mouth to yours with a needy, humming kiss. You mewl as the cook pulls out—a low, guttural noise that Zoro takes like an uppercut. He lets his head fall back against the headboard, his stomach in knots.

He thinks it’s over. He’s painfully hard and leaking while trying to get his head back down from wherever he floated off to. He holds you, preparing to walk away.

Tenderly, you stroke the cook’s hair as you relax against Zoro’s chest. When you speak, your voice is scratchy but unmistakable.

“Zoro. Do you want to fuck me?”

Zoro’s mouth turns dry. His cock jumps hard against his abs.

“Yeah,” he says.

The cook rolls over and hums again. “You want one more, baby?” He asks. He sounds almost delirious. “You want me to watch him fuck my cum deeper inside you?”

Your body shivers. “Yes.”

The cook looks up at him. “Is that what you want?”

“Fuck.” Never, even in hell, would Zoro have used those words. But something turns over in his brain, and that’s exactly what he wants. He craves it.

Clumsily, he slides out from behind you. The cook takes his place, and he crawls over top you, gaze roaming from your face to your breasts, down to your messy, beautiful pussy. He’s not sure he’s ever seen anything better.

Your knees bob a little in the air; you’re getting tired. That’s fine. He’s not sure how long he’ll be able to last anyway. He fists himself, spreading his pre down the shaft with his thumb.

Your eyes wander to his groin. “Big,” you mumble.

He knows. “If you want to stop, just say so.”

“No, s’ok.”

He looks down again, eyes lingering on the spend that leaks from you. With a hitched breath, Zoro lines himself up. Despite his size, he slides in so easily it makes him shudder. He bites the corner of his lip with one canine, consumed by your wet heat. With nowhere else to go, slick dribbles out around him as he pushes further in.

You twitch as he bottoms out, so sensitive and pliant under him. And soft, so much softer than he could have imagined as he pushes your thighs up to your chest by instinct.

“So big…” you moan.

Zoro can’t breathe. He can barely think—he just moves where his body tells him, gradually picking up speed until he’s full-on thrusting, sandwiching you tight between him and the other man.

The cook cups your breasts with both hands, tweaks your nipples now and again to make you jolt. Zoro stares at his kiss-bruised mouth as he babbles out praise. “You take him so well, princess. So good for us.”

Zoro’s face hovers so close to the cook, he can feel his breath with every word. He’s like an animal, fucking you with a one-track mind. He can’t think of anything but how this feels—hard, hot, wrong, delicious. With your next moan, he drops his mouth to yours to swallow it.

As soon as Zoro pulls back, the cook replaces him, pressing two fingers in your mouth for you to suck on.

“You like that?” he groans, his gravelly voice even huskier than usual. “Fuck, you’re so perfect.”

Barreling towards the edge in the grip of your cunt, Zoro loses himself. He surges forward, feels his earrings slap against the side of his face, and captures the cook’s stupid lips with his own. Zoro bullies his tongue inside as the cook moans, opens up, and lets him in. He can’t get deep enough, can’t taste enough of the smoke and wine and lust to sate himself.

When you scratch your nails down his chest, blunt nails catching on his old, worn scars, Zoro snaps. With a thick growl, he cums so much that it pushes his cock halfway out of you. You convulse, leg muscles going stiff as you find one final peak before he pulls out.

Everything is a blur. Zoro’s heart and lungs are screaming for rest, and he drops his head to your stomach to catch his breath.

“Fuck,” the cook swears softly, like he’s half asleep.

Your nails rake over Zoro’s shortly cropped hair as sweat drips down his temples. “You were amazing.”

As the rush fades and Zoro comes back to his senses, his entire body buzzes. There aren’t words for it, the mixture of shock and relief he feels cradled against you as the cook reaches over to the bedside table and lights a cigarette. The world has shifted a little on its axis. You couldn’t have planned this, and not in his wildest dreams could Zoro have imagined any of it.

What the hell just happened?

[stylesloveclub]

Prose (part 2)

In which not many students attend Harry's office hours, and y/n's kind of burnt out.

+++

“What’s that drink you’re always drinking?” Harry asks, sitting across from y/n in his office.

She’s the only student to show up to his office hours this week (again), and had come to ask about the first essay that’s due next week. While she types on her computer, writing down all the notes that Harry just gave her on her first draft, Harry finds himself staring at the iced drink sitting next to her laptop.

“Oh, it’s just an iced chai. I���ve been getting two pumps of pumpkin spice syrup in it recently though, since Starbucks has their fall flavors now.”

“Hm. I’ve never tried the fall drinks.” He twirls his red pen between his fingers, leaning back in his chair comfortably. “M’always too scared to try new drinks, y’know? Like what if I don’t like it? Then I’d have wasted five bucks and I wouldn’t even have a coffee to get me through my day.” He pouts to himself at the thought of it, and y/n finds it terribly endearing.

She’s happy to know that Harry is seemingly very comfortable in her presence, prattling on and on about the simplest of things – like coffee orders and his favorite food places on campus. When she first walked in, the first thing he’d asked her was her favorite place to grab lunch on campus, since he was starving and one of the other TA’s had offered to drop off some food for him. His personal favorite was the bagel place (he could have a cream cheese bagel at any time of the day, he told her), but that place closes early, so he was stuck between getting mexican or sushi.

Y/n advised him to stick with the burritos – her ex-roommate once got food poisoning from the sushi. Never trust the on-campus sushi, she warned.

“M’kinda like that too,” she responds once she finishes up her essay outline. “I usually just always get the chai, ‘cos I know I’ll like it. But sometimes I’ll be adventurous with like, the syrups I add, because it doesn’t really make a difference. Like right now, I have pumpkin spice syrup in here, and I can barely taste it so even if I didn’t like it, it’d be fine.” She takes a sip to somehow prove her point. “I just like adding the pumpkin for the fall vibes.”

“Is fall your favorite season?” he asks. It’s been a lot of this – Harry asking her questions, getting to know her. She wonders if it’s because she’s the only one who shows up to his office hours and, therefore, is the only person whose ear he gets to talk off – or if he genuinely is interested in her. The thought of it makes her heart want to do a backflip, but she kindly tells her heart to CALM THE FUCK DOWN before she starts getting carried away in her train of thought. Harry’s just a nice guy! A nice guy, who talks to her about books, and shares his umbrella, and gives her rides home when it’s rainy outside – and has pretty pink lips, and pretty green eyes, and pretty brown curls.

“Yeah, I think so,” she hums.

Her crush on him seems to grow more and more every time she sees him, like those tall annoying weeds that you constantly have to dig out of a pretty flower garden. The type of weeds that seem to grow back even stronger each time you cut their roots and spray anti-weed chemicals on them to ensure that they don’t come back. She’s tried to smush those bothersome butterflies in her stomach, continuously reminding herself that he’s just her TA. That he’s just being nice. That he just calls her smart, and tells her that she’s doing a good job, and praises her discussion posts because that is literally what a Teaching Assistant is supposed to do. But whenever he smiles at her with that boyish dimple and his eyes glimmer all sweetly and romantically and thoughtfully – well she just can’t help it! She’s given up and has let the crush invade her brain like the invasive garden plant that it is.

It’s just a harmless little crush, she rationalizes. Just a little fantasy of kissing him here and there to get her through her boring lectures with Dr. Richmond – nothing wrong with that, right?

She clears her throat, “What’s your favorite season?”

He stares up at the ceiling, pursing his lips thoughtfully, “Hmm… probably spring. I like seeing the flowers bloom, especially after a snowy winter.”

Oh, of course he likes seeing the flowers bloom. He’s a walking piece of poetry.

+++

Harry stands at the front of the classroom, lecturing once again. It’s the same as before – fourty-ish college students hanging onto every word like his words are a waterfall and they’re a group of dehydrated travelers.

He loves teaching, loves seeing the way his students’ eyes light up with wonder when he explains a certain theme or points out a new motif. He’s more than happy to hold their hand through the novel, be their guiding light through the Romantic era. Their questions make his day, and he’s beyond happy to see that, now that they’re a few weeks into their course, the students are opening up.

“Victor is so caught up in his experiment,” Harry lectures, “that he begins to ignore nature. Victor says– ‘The summer months passed while I was thus engaged, heart and soul, in one pursuit. It was the most beautiful season; never did the fields bestow a more plentiful harvest, or the vines yield a more luxuriant vintage: but my eyes were insensible to the charms of nature.’ So what role does nature – or should I say – the lack of nature, play for Victor?”

Four hands shoot up into the air (relieving considering how last week he could barely get anyone to say anything). “Katie, right?” He smiles when she nods, and gives an exaggerated, celebratory fist pump that makes all of his students chuckle. “Told you I’d start getting your names down! Go ahead, Katie.”

Although he’s laughing and smiling – practically beaming since he and his students are getting along and actually discussing (instead of just him lecturing them) – he can’t help but feel a little pinch of sadness in the back of his mind. As his eyes scan over the seats, he can’t manage to find y/n in the class. He’d searched for her three times already – wondering if he accidentally missed her, or if she was hidden behind one of the tall boys near the front – but he couldn’t find his star student. He missed catching her eye, giving her sly winks and watching her duck her head down stifle a laugh. It kept him entertained whenever he had to sit through Dr. Richmond’s lectures, and he liked hearing her talk. Not only does she add amazing thoughts to their class discussions, but she also is just… nice to listen to.

“Good… I love how you said that Katie,” Harry carries on, “He embodies the corruption of nature in the quest for glory. And we already know how highly the Romantics regard the beauty of nature – their artwork is meant to connect us with the world, isn’t it?”

He wonders if she’s okay. She isn’t hurt or anything, is she? Did something happen to her on her walk to class?

“He’s disrupting the natural cycle of life, basically destroying nature, by trying to play God and create life himself–”

Y/n, as quietly as she can, sneaks into the classroom. She’s 15 minutes late, which isn’t late enough to just completely ditch the lecture, but still late enough to raise a few eyebrows. Of course, being the clumsy duck she is, she accidentally knocks the trash can over with a loud bang. She winces at how loud the sound is, and feels her cheeks turn hot when all eyes turn to look at her.

Harry turns as well, and can’t help but smile to himself – there she is.

He continues with his lecture, as if nothing happened, but watches as she hurries over to her set spot in the third row. She messily pushes her hair out of her face as she sits down, pulling the pull-out desk in front of her and grabbing her laptop from her bag. She types in her password quickly, and pushes the sleeves of her white cardigan up her arms so that they aren’t in the way. Her eyes briefly flicker upwards to the projector to see what she missed – but instead she accidentally catches Harry’s gaze, who’s already looking at her.

All of a sudden, Harry loses his train of thought. His eyes flicker between hers, and she stares back at him. They’re stuck like that for a moment – just the briefest moment – before he realizes that words are no longer coming out of his mouth and that the rest of the class is staring at him expectantly.

His cheeks tint pink. “Um… sorry, what was I saying?” He chuckles at himself embarrassedly, shaking his head at himself – it’s not often that he stutters over his words. But, luckily, it was brief enough to just pass as a slight fumble. Nothing too suspicious.

Harry tears his eyes away from y/n and resumes with his lecture. But somehow, as delusional as she might be, y/n can tell that that moment was something more than just a slight stumble.

+++

“I got this for you,” y/n says, standing in front of Harry’s desk, placing the iced drink down next to his pile of papers.

Harry furrows his eyebrows and sits up straighter. “What?”

“It’s a pumpkin iced chai… the same one I usually get. I thought, since last time you said you didn’t wanna waste five bucks trying a new drink–”

“Are you mental?” he interrupts.

She blinks. “Huh?”

“Why would you go on and waste five of your dollars instead?” he huffs. “Christ, y/n, don’t be silly, m’not letting you buy me a coffee. How much was it, let me pay you back–” he’s reaching into his back pocket for his wallet, but y/n is quick to refuse.

“No, don’t worry I didn’t pay for it! Starbucks has this thing– it’s like, if you buy one fall drink you can get a second one for free, but it’s only on Thursdays after 12. And I was gonna get one for myself anyway, so I was like– might as well just get the second one for free so that you can try it and not waste five dollars.”

He pauses, his wallet half open and a five dollar bill pinched between her fingers. He squints at her, “Are you lying?”

She gives an exasperated huff, “Why would I lie?!”

“I dunno, maybe you’re trying to butter me up with drinks and stuff so that I’ll grade your essays easier – which won’t work by the way! M’not easy to bribe!”

She rolls her eyes and plops into the seat across from him. “Please. If I was gonna try and butter you up, it would’ve started five weeks ago, when classes actually started. And I probably wouldn’t be in your office hours every week groveling over these stupid essays.” She lets her bag fall to the floor and blows the hair out of her face. “Y’know, Dr. Richmond does not explain the politics of 18th Century Europe well enough to expect me to write an entire essay on ‘the effects of globalization on romantic era literature.’ I signed up for a literature class, not European history. When are we gonna start writing essays on Frankenstein and feminism?”

Harry goes to respond, but right at that moment he takes a tentative sip of the drink that y/n had forced onto his desk. He cannot hide the grimace that graces his face.

Her eyes round out and her eyebrows pinch. “You don’t like it?” she says with a pout.

His lips smack together a few times, trying to get used to the taste of pumpkin in his mouth – but he actually really cannot stand it. “God,” he says, his nose wrinkles and his tongue aching for some water to wash away the pumpkin-y after taste. “What a waste of five dollars.”

“Oh my gosh– I did not spend five dollars on a drink for you!”

“Yeah, yeah,” he pushes the drink to the edge of his desk, the sight of it making his tummy turn a little bit (he really did not like that pumpkin flavor mixed with milk). He then states the obvious, “You were late today.”

“Yeah. I overslept.”

He tsks, “What happened to the punctual Miss y/n who showed up twenty minutes early on the first day of classes?”

She sighs, “Dunno. Was up kinda late last night. And then I guess I snoozed through my alarm.”

It’s only then that he notices the dark circles under her eyes, and how her face is missing that usual radiant glow. He’s so caught up in her smile and her eyes, that he nearly missed the exhaustion leaking off her body. “How late?” he inquires.

“Um… like 3 in the morning.” Harry gapes at her, and she shrugs.

“Tha’s not healthy,” he scolds like a father. “Why’re you staying up so late, hm? Should be in bed for at least 6-8 hours, don’t you know that?”

“I know,” she rubs at her eyes tiredly. “I just have a psych midterm next week that m’really freaked out about. I like– fell behind on the lectures, so m’trying to learn like the past three weeks of material in a few days.”

Harry feels his heart ache, sympathizing for this poor, tired, hard-working girl. He knows the struggles of undergrad – he was pulling all nighters too, back in his day, and he never dared to go above 16 units. He wonders how she’s surviving, taking 20 units while still being at the top of her classes – well, she’s at the top of this class, he knows for certain. His star student.

Her eyes are still hidden behind her hands, knuckling at her eyelids, but she pulls them away slowly when she feels Harry’s hand at her knee. She looks at him, and he’s suddenly aware of how red and glossy her eyes are. “Just don’t overdo the studying, okay?” he says with soft eyes and a gentle voice. His thumb rubs overtop her knee softly, saying a hundred words that he can’t say out loud just quite yet.

She nods, and swallows thickly. “Okay.”

He smiles. “So you want a crash course in European History? I can do that for you. Dunno why more people don’t show up to my office hours, m’literally about to tell you exactly what to write…”

+++

Y/n is exhausted.

Actually, exhausted doesn’t cut it. She is at her breaking point.

With midterms week upon her, she’s been drowning herself in her school work, trying to keep up with her lectures and recap everything that she’s learned up until this point. Kind of difficult, when she’s fallen so dreadfully behind and barely knows what’s going on in her stats class. And – to make things worse, not only does she have both her stats and psych midterm this Friday, but she also needs to finish this stupid Globalization essay by tomorrow’s deadline.

Seven pages about The Effects of Globalization on British Romantic Literature. She currently has three pages written.

She’s screwed.

It’s not like she was trying to get behind! She tried so hard to stay on top of her studies. She promised herself that she’d finish the globalization essay last night – went to starbucks with her noise canceling headphones, got herself an iced pumpkin chai as a motivational treat, and sat down to turn all her notes into a beautiful, magical essay on Romanticism that would make Dr. Richmond weep.

But… the words just weren’t wording! Her brain refused to cooperate with her, despite the fact that she stayed at the Starbucks literally up until they kicked her out. She read her sources, went over her excerpts, wrote and rewrote her thesis over and over again… and only got three out of the seven pages done. She doesn’t know whether to blame Dr. Richmond for assigning such a stupid essay, or just her own sleep-deprived brain.

She’d gotten maybe five hours of sleep last night. And the night before that, too. Harry’s words ring loudly in her head, scolding her to get at least six hours of sleep every night… but she just has so much work to do! She has to do her psych readings, her stats homework, the midterm practice her stats professor posted, and this essay… It's a lot. Plus having to actually attend all of her classes and go to work (she works at the campus bookstore) on top of all her homework and studying? She barely has time to eat!!!

Her tummy grumbles miserably, a painful reminder of the fact that she had forgotten to pack herself a lunch this morning in her haste to get to class on time. The pain is nowhere as bad as her headache, though. It’s the kind of migraine you get when you barely got any sleep. Her head feels heavy, her heartbeat pounding in her ears, and her eyes sting every time she blinks. It’s horrible. She can barely focus on anything. Not her stats homework, not the essay open in front of her.

Not even Harry, who’s sitting to her left, helping her with her essay. In fact, she’s completely missed what he’s spent the past minute explaining to her.

She blinks at him slowly. “Sorry… can you say that again?”

Harry’s pretty face pinches, his eyebrows furrowed and eyes glimmering with concern. She’s so clearly off today… he can’t ignore her red-rimmed eyes and zoning out any longer. “…are you okay?” he asks timidly.

“Yeah, yeah,” she says quickly, brushing off his concern. “I’m fine.” But it’s like as soon as she says those two words, the dam holding her together collapses, and a river of emotion comes barreling through her. She looks down at the open document on her laptop, stares at the cursor blinking at her. The blank page taunting her. Tears well up in her eyes, and her heart starts to swell sadly. She’s not fine at all.

She quickly hides her face from Harry, looking down at her lap. She is NOT allowed to cry in front of him, she reprimands herself. She’s kept herself together all day, why is she starting to get emotional now, in the middle of his office hours? Couldn’t it have waited until she was alone in her shower?

She swallows around the lump in her throat, and presses her palms to her stinging eyes. As if that’ll keep her tears at bay. “Sorry,” she mumbles, trying to conceal her shaky voice, “let me just think for a second.”

“Hey…” Harry sees right through it. “Hey, come on. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she says, mostly trying to convince herself. She sniffles as quietly as she can and tries to rub the tears away. “Sorry, nothing. I’m fine.”

She reaches for her laptop, but Harry grabs her hand. “No.” He can’t ignore the glossy sheen of her eyes, or the quiet sniffles. He just can’t. “We need to take a break.”

“It’s really fine–” she tries to say, but she can barely get it out with how her throat is swelling. She stares down at the floor. Harry holds her hand.

“What’s wrong? Talk to me.” His hands are big and warm, encasing her’s, wholly. A cross tattoo sits between the slit of his thumb and second finger, twitching as his thumb grazes her knuckles.

“M’just tired,” she says dejectedly. “I was up super late last night and I just… didn’t even get anything done. And now I have to finish this, and I haven’t finished my stats homework, and I have two midterms on Friday.” Her heart starts to race as she realizes much she has to do, and how little time she has. She’s stretched herself thin. “There’s just so much I have to get done,” her voice cracks, “and I’m so tired.” A big fat tear rolls down her face, and drops onto her shirt – shamefully staining the thin material.

Harry gets out of his chair and kneels down in front of her, resting their joint hands in her lap as he stares up at her. More tears fill her eyes without her consent, and her cheeks burn with embarrassment. “Sorry,” she sniffles. She refuses to meet his gaze, despite how earnestly he’s looking into her sad eyes. Another drop falls from her lashes.

“Don’t apologize,” he murmurs sadly.

“I thought I could handle it all,” she bleats. “But I’m so unprepared for my midterms, and I need to finish this essay, and I promised you that I’d stay on top of my work, but I’m falling behind–”

“Don’t worry about the essay,” he interrupts. “I’ll get you an extension on your paper.”

She shakes her head. “Dr. Richmond doesn’t do extensions, though,” she blubbers.

“I’ll talk to him,” he says firmly. “M’the one grading it anyway.”

“But Harry–” she whines, shamelessly childlike, “I promised you that this wouldn’t happen. I told you I could handle it.”

“And you can handle it. I know you can.” His green eyes are wide and round as he looks up at her, earnest and pleading. “You come to office hours, and you study hard, and you’d stay up all night to finish this essay – but I don’t want you to. You don’t have to prove yourself to me. I know you can do it.”

She pouts, still not looking up at him. She stares instead at their joint hands in her lap blankly.

“You’re doing so good,” he coos, “You’re coming to office hours even when you have so much going on, and you’re taking so many units. I know you’re giving it your all. S’okay.”

He reaches a hand out to rest on her shoulder, and suddenly she feels the weight of the world fall off of her chest. A long, shaky breath leaves her, and she blinks her eyes shut, letting more tears cascade down her cheeks. “Oh, sweetheart,” Harry’s heart breaks. He leans up to wrap his arms around her shoulders, a soft hug, and she rests her forehead on his shoulder, letting the tears silently fall. His hands rub big, soothing circles on her back, and he shushes her softly, “It’s alright.”

His blue dress shirt feels cool against her face, crisp and fresh, and he smells like vanilla and smoked wood. She doesn’t want to abandon his firm chest, his warm embrace, but he pulls back and looks into her eyes. For the first time, she meets his gaze. “No more crying, okay?”

She sniffles, and wipes the wetness off her cheeks. “M’kay.”

A soft smile smooths out the worried lines on his face. “Here’s what we’re gonna do,” he says, his hands slapping his thighs as he stands back up. “You’re going to take a nap–” he closes his office door and locks it with a click.

“A nap?” her watery voice exclaims. “But– I need to study!”

He gives her a firm look. “You’re not gonna get any studying done if your brain isn’t well rested.” From one of the bottom drawers of his desk, he pulls out a blanket (he sometimes will take a nap in his office if he needs a break from grading). “Take a nap. I’ll wake you in an hour and then y’can study in here.”

+++

You know that peaceful feeling that surrounds a room when a baby is taking a nap? How everyone tiptoes around the crib, their voices barely surpassing a whisper in fear of waking the sleeping baby. How parents will stand around, just watching the baby nap, smiling to themselves when their baby twitches in its sleep. How the world just seems more… peaceful?

That’s how Harry feels right now.

Y/n is on his couch, his cozy gray blanket pulled up to her chin. Her cheeks are puffed, her tired eyes shut with her eyelashes resting delicately on the tops of her cheeks. She looks angelic, the most relaxed he’s ever seen her be, with no midterms stressing her out. No papers due, no furrowed eyebrows, no crying. Like a sleeping baby, cherubic and sweet. He’s been tiptoeing around her for the past hour, grading papers as quietly as he can. He tried to be productive and just mind his business while she napped, but everytime he shuffled through one of the essays, he felt the urge to check on her, to make sure that he didn’t accidentally wake her up. And then he just wanted to… watch her. Not in a creepy way though!!! Not in a creepy way. In a kind of… sweet way. :( She was beautiful, especially when she slept.

His heart doesn’t want to wake her up – not when she looks so peaceful for the first time weeks. All the times he’s seen her since that very first week was her stressing and stressing and stressing – stressing about getting a permission code from Dr. Richmond, stressing about her exams, stressing about the rain. He’s never gotten to see her take a breath and be calm. She’s a hard worker, he can tell – which is a great trait that he admires in his students. But, with y/n… he just wants to make sure she’s okay, too.

He kneels down in front of the couch, and regretfully murmurs out, “y/n?” She doesn’t respond at all– she’s dead to the world. All the exhaustion that she’d accumulated this past week, all the hours of sleep she missed, are catching up with her now. He tries again, “Y/n… time to wake up.”

Her eyebrows furrow and her nose wrinkles, but she still refuses to open her eyes. The pull of sleepiness is too strong. It makes him chuckle. “Come on, bunny,” he says, in reference to her twitchy nose and pouty lips. “V’got a snack for you.”

Her sleepy eyes blink open, and immediately he can tell that she needed that nap. Her eyes are brighter, less red, and she stares up at him sweetly. “A snack?”

Of course that would get her to wake up. His dimple pokes his cheek. “S’not much. Just a granola bar. But it’ll help you while you study.”

She sits up, the blanket pooling around her waist, and rubs at her eye with her knuckle.

“Feeling better?” He asks, a hand on her knee.

She nods. She’d taken an Advil for her headache before she’d gone to sleep. That, with her nap, has made the prospect of studying a little bit more bearable.

When she looks around the room, she sees that Harry’s cleared up a portion of his desk for her to study at. Gone are his stacks of books, a bare square of wood right across from the stack of essays he’s currently grading. The usual foldable chair that he has students sit in during his office hours has been moved to the corner, and has been replaced with one of the more comfy, rolly chairs. He’s gone out of his way to make a sweet little study space for her while she napped in his office.

“Now… we’re gonna have to leave by 9,” Harry says, standing up and going round to his side of his desk. “Cos v’got to feed my cat. But that gives us at least… two hours of study time. N’then I can take you home. How does that sound?”

She blinks. “Harry… thank you.” She doesn’t know why he’s being so nice to her, or what she’s done to deserve such kind treatment. But it means the world.

He shrugs nonchalantly, but she doesn’t miss the dimple that pinches his cheek as he smiles to himself.

+++

They stay in his office until nightfall.

Harry’s nicely styled curls turn messy, his fingers tangling through his hair he graded the freshman papers (is he a harsh grader, or does this new generation truly not know how to write?). His eyebrows furrow behind his tortoise shell glasses, green eyes hard and serious. Y/n watches the way his lips purse, how he taps his red pen against his chin while he reads.

Her own brain is done with studying. After her nap, she started playing her classical music and sat down to finish her stats homework AND the practice midterm. Without the globalization essay to worry about, she managed to calm down and focus, get some of her work done, and catch up on the things she was so behind on. Does she feel any better about the exam? No. But at least she can say that she studied!

Harry manages to make a nice dent in the stack of ungraded papers as well, working well in the comfortable silence filtering between the two of them. There was no need for them to talk, and they didn’t distract each other either. Simply getting their work done next to each other, and enjoying each other’s presence (though neither one of them would outright admit how nice it is to just sit in silence with the other).

They pack up and head out together when it gets closer to nine. Harry holds the office door open for her and locks his door behind them, and they walk closely together towards the parking lot. It’s dark, the ground only lit by the few streetlights looming above them, and a shiver racks through y/n’s body from the cool autumnal air. She hadn’t planned on being on campus so late – she thought that she’d probably go straight home after office hours and pull an all-nighter to finish her essay – so therefore, she doesn’t have much of a jacket except for a lame cardigan over her shirt.

Harry, who usually is on campus until nightfall anyway, wishes he could do something for her when he notices the way she’s hugging herself, her cardigan pulled over her fingers. He wants to pull her to his side, wrap an arm around her and share his body warmth with her – but that would be entirely too unprofessional, he thinks. Instead he picks up his pace, forcing y/n to scurry in order to keep up with his long strides, and immediately turns on the heat for her.

He doesn’t need to ask for directions this time, knowing exactly where to turn and how to get to her apartment, and when he pulls up in front of her door, he turns to her quietly. “Listen. Don’t stress about the paper. Focus on studying for your exams, and then you can have the entire weekend to finish the paper, okay?”

“I feel… bad. Like, Dr. Richmond said no extensions, and you’re making these exceptions for me–”

“Don’t overthink it,” Harry interrupts. “Dr. Richmond just says that so people don’t just ask for extensions because they procrastinated. He will grant extensions when there’s a valid reason.”

“But, really it’s not a valid reason… everyone else has midterms.”

“But none of those other students have shown me how much they care about this class. I know you’re a hard worker, I know you aren’t just procrastinating.” He shrugs, “M’the one who makes the calls. And I think you deserve an extension.”

She sits there quietly, then says, “I-I just don’t want you to think I only came to your office hours to cry and make you give me an extension. I… come to your office hours for help. You’re like… helpful.” She says that last part awkwardly, and it makes him chuckle quietly.

“You can say I’m your favorite TA. I won’t tell.” His dimple pokes his cheek as he smirks at her teasingly, and she can’t help but giggle too. Her eyes twinkle as she looks at him with a small shake of her head. That wasn’t what she was getting at… but it is true.

They stare at each other for a moment too long. One of Harry’s hands rests on the wheel, while the other one comes up to play with his lip. Y/n’s hands sit politely in her lap, her bag sitting at her feet on the passenger’s seat floor. They’re both quiet, not knowing what to say. Yeah, they’re laughing and teasing each other, but something heavier lingers in the air around them. This tension… this magnetic energy. Neither y/n nor Harry know what’s causing it, or why the silence is suddenly so overwhelming. The smile on y/n’s face lingers in her eyes, which glimmer as she stares at Harry. And Harry, who had been smirking mischievously, now looks at y/n with a bit of a more serious air. He stares at her thoughtfully, his bottom lip pinched between his lips. His eyes wander down to her lips, pretty and heart shaped. She’s chewing the inside of her lip softly, and he wants to brush his thumb over her mouth and tell her to stop.

He catches himself, and quickly tears his eyes away before she notices. He clears his throat.

“Take care of y’self,” he says with a soft smile. “I want to see you well rested in class next week, okay?”

+++

HOPE U GUYS LOVED IT!!!!!! part 3 is up on my patreon already, and will come to tumblr next saturday (oct 21) pleeeeaaaase lmk what u rhink and give her a rb and a comment i love u guys so so much!!! more tarry to come!

Prose (part 3) is already posted on patreon! : In which y/n is Harry's favorite student, and she sort of somehow accidentally kisses him.

Prose Masterlist

[slytherinshua]

MISUNDERSTOOD KISS

genre. fluff. warnings. small misunderstanding. shinyu is vv shy. first kiss :( not proofread. pairing. shinyu x fem!reader. wc. 1k. request. requested by anon. a/n. finally came back to finish this bcuz it's been just dying in my drafts for a hot minute ngl 😭 but i gotta feed the starved sai's as much as i can <333

Junghwan had been thinking of it for weeks now. Whenever he tried to get his mind off of it, it only backfired. “It” was, of course, your lips. Junghwan swore you were doing it on purpose, putting on the prettiest lip glosses and lip tints just to tempt him. They only made your lips seem all the more inviting.

But the problem was, you had only been dating for a few weeks. Sure, you had been friends for years and were more comfortable with each other than anyone else, but you both wanted to take it slow. Junghwan would hate to rush something as important as your first kiss.

He’d never kissed anyone before, and the thought of it made him hot in the face. He was sure he was crazy for thinking about it so much. Why was he so down bad for you?

You were already like an addiction to him. Just seeing you made his day a million times better— he just knew that the second he tasted your lips, there would be no going back. He could barely even comprehend how obsessed he would be with your kisses. Hugs already made him feel giddy and so so in love. And when you cuddled with him? God, he was so whipped for you.

He had always been shier than you, more reserved and quiet. That was how you became friends in the first place; you basically adopted him as your friend. He would forever be grateful to you for that. He would probably still be the socially anxious loser kid he used to be if you hadn’t helped him out of his shell in high school. Now that you were both in college and dating, things were quite different. He finally had friends, a girlfriend, and was more confident than ever before.

But that didn’t change the fact that you still made him shy. Thinking about you caused butterflies to swarm in his stomach and his heart to melt right out of his chest. You meant so much to him, and in some ways, he was deathly afraid of messing something up. If he started moving too fast, would that scare you? 

The lingering doubts stopped him from making a move to kiss you already, although there had been several times he had come incredibly close to it. During one movie night, he could’ve sworn you started to lean in. Another occasion when he had walked you home, you had stalled at your doorstep, as if waiting for him to do something. But Junghwan was still terrified of messing up… so he took the safe option.

“Is there something… wrong? With me?” You asked, deciding to finally address something that had been bothering you for a while. 

You had been dating Junghwan for almost 2 months now, and he still hadn’t kissed you. Despite your attempts to silently let him know that you were okay with it; leaning in when the timing felt right, picking romance movies with obvious kiss scenes, even bringing it up in conversation at times. Nothing seemed to be working, though, and you were starting to think that maybe he didn’t want to kiss you at all.

“No. You’re perfect, why would you think that?” Junghwan’s answer came so quick and sure, like he didn’t even have to think about it. If he was so convinced about it, then why hadn’t he made a move yet?

“We’ve been dating for almost 2 months now…” Junghwan looked at you expectantly, waiting for you to continue. You took a breath, “We still haven’t kissed yet. Is there something… unattractive about me? Do you not want to? Was I the only one constantly thinking about it?”

Your boyfriend blinked, stunned by your question. Of all the things he expected you to bring up, it definitely wasn’t this. He had never even considered that what he thought of as taking the ‘safe option’ in order to assure he didn’t make you uncomfortable, was causing doubts in your mind about his affection for you. No wonder he felt like he was messing up so badly.

“No, oh my gosh, no! Y/n, I swear, I’ve thought about it too. Every day— I want to kiss you, I swear! I really, really—” His panicked rambling was cut off by you, by your lips.

You just couldn’t take it anymore. He was so fucking cute. You could instantly forgive him for all the weeks of doubting and overthinking he had put you through, finding him incredibly endearing as he tried to fix the mess he had made. You couldn’t help but focus on his lips as the words started to spill out. Those same lips that you had been so fixated on for weeks, longing to taste for so long. 

It was like he was purposefully testing you every time he licked them or subconsciously nibbled on them. They always looked so incredibly soft and plush. Now that you were finally feeling them under yours, you could only describe the feeling as euphoric. It was everything you could’ve hoped for— even better than you could’ve imagined, in fact.

He gasped in surprise when you cut his words off, but his eyes were quick to flutter shut at the feeling of your lips. Junghwan had been originally worried that the kiss might be awkward, that his rhythm would be wrong, or that he would go too fast or too slow. But you found him perfect. 

He was slow. He was gentle and soft and caring, kissing you as if any slight amount of pressure too much would break you. And you loved it. It felt safe. Junghwan always made you feel that way, like nothing about him could ever scare you. He would always go exactly at your pace, making sure you were comfortable no matter what. He never overstepped, never expected anything overwhelming from you. Even as he kissed you, his lips portrayed the same feeling. The kiss was tentative just like his nature, but you could feel the eagerness and longing that he held at the same time. 

When you pulled apart, he was breathless. It felt like the kiss had consumed him entirely and left his mind spinning endlessly. He could barely think of what to do next, but he knew that he wanted to feel your lips on his again, so he decided to be bold, pulling you back into his arms despite his breathless state.

“Kiss me again.”

↳ tws taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @eternalgyu,, @seunghancore,, @sobun1est,, @talkingsaxy,, @50-husbands,,

@hursheys,, @imyuna-06,, @mjupis,, @stannwjnss,, @nonononranghaee

[nhlclover]

goodnight n go | quinn hughes

summary: when your best friend begins to act distant you wonder if your harboured feelings have become exposed.

request: yes / no

warnings: angst, cursing

a/n: somewhat based on ‘goodnight n go’ by ariana grande. quinn looks so boyfriend in this gif

word count: 1.7k

It’s been 5 years since you watched your best friend get drafted by Vancouver. It was a dream come true for everyone. You watched from the sidelines as he played at Michigan, setting records for defensemen there, then as he started his professional career.

You’d accepted that you wouldn’t see him during the winter months, and you were okay with it. With you being from out of state, you only really saw Quinn during the summers at the lake house in Michigan.

Over time and the more you and Quinn got older, the more you realized what you once thought was just a schoolyard crush became something more intense.

You decided before the season finished that you were going to finally tell Quinn how you felt. You confided in Jack about your feelings, with the middle Hughes encouraging you to tell his brother how you felt.

However, from the moment he arrived at the lake house, you could tell something was off.

Quinn was quieter than normal. You’d wondered if it was because of the less-than-desirable season the Canucks had. They just barely escaped the bottom ten in the league and had traded away one of their best players. The season had taken a toll on Quinn and you could tell. But you were unsure if that was the whole reason.

Normally he would find solace in you, but you’d barely been able to hold a conversation with Quinn for more than a minute. Nothing seemed to get him to talk to you and you couldn’t figure out why. Part of you wondered if you’d somehow let on about your feelings towards him.

What if Quinn knew you liked him and he didn’t reciprocate the feelings, so he was distancing himself on purpose?

It was driving you nuts not knowing why your best friend wasn’t talking to you. You could barely hold him in a conversation for more than a minute before he would excuse himself, and he would barely acknowledge you in group conversations.

When you tried to ask Quinn if he still wanted to do your annual sunrise swim, something you’d done every year since you were twelve, he told you that he wasn’t really feeling up to it and then locked himself in his room for the next hour.

The entire week was like that. An attempt at conversation on your part was consistently met with a one-word answer and Quinn walking away.

Now you were watching Quinn say goodbye as he was going back to Vancouver early for pre-season.

Quinn hugged his mom and dad, then Jack before turning to you and your family. You watch him shake your father's hand before hugging your mother. He turns to you, seemingly holding his breath.

“I’ll uh… see you around.” He says.

You freeze, caught up in a mixture of confusion, disbelief, anger, and a little bit of embarrassment at the goodbye your best friend gave you.

Quinn picks up his bag, heading out the front door to where Luke is waiting in the car. The eyes of your family and the Hughes were on you. You could only bear to look at Jack, who raised his eyebrows, hinting at you to go after him.

You walk out behind Quinn, watching him walk to Luke’s car waiting in the driveway. “What the fuck?” You scream.

Quinn turns to you, a pained expression on his face. He doesn’t say anything, he just looks at you.

“You come home, it’s my first time seeing you in almost a year after you ghost me for half of it, and then you don’t fucking speak to me the entire time.” You yell. You don’t care if the rest can hear you from inside or if Luke can hear what you’re saying. Every sentiment from the past week is bubbling up inside you now spilling out. “And now you don’t even hug me goodbye? 16 years of friendship and all I get is ‘see you around’?”

Quinn doesn’t offer an immediate reply, instead looking down at his shoes. You storm over, shoving the tall brunette boy by his shoulders. He stumbles backwards, dropping his duffle to the ground. “Y/n.” He says. His tone isn’t angry. It’s soft and almost remorseful.

“Don’t ‘y/n’ me.” You sneer, tears balancing on your bottom lashes. “Talk to me! Say something!”

“I don’t want to do this.” He says, grabbing the bag from the ground. He walks to the car, throwing the bag into the backseat.

“Fine.” You say, defeated. “Walk away. You’re a coward.”

He sighs, looking up at the sky. “Y/n.”

“No fucking go. You clearly don’t want to be friends or whatever the fuck we were so go.” You say, wiping away the tears streaming down your face.

Quinn’s expression changes, his eyebrows furrowing. He opens his mouth to speak, but you cut him off. “No! Just…” Your voice falters. “Go, Quinn. Please.”

He huffs, getting in the passenger seat. You watch Quinn and Luke discuss something quickly before the engine turns on and the car backs out of the driveway.

Your chest heaves with sobs as you run back into the house, past yours and Quinn’s families and up to your childhood bedroom. Walls lined with photos of Quinn and you from when you were in diapers to just last year, sitting by the campfire drinking beers. You let sobs rack your body as memories of your friendship from over the years flood your mind.

A soft knock on the door pauses your cries. The door clicks open and Jack's head pokes in. “Y/n?” He says softly.

You stick your head out from under your comforter, giving Jack a view of your red and puffy eyes, with tear-stained cheeks. He slipped in and shut the door behind him, lying down next to you.

“I’m sorry.” He says. You roll over, curling into his side.

“I just don’t understand.” You say.

“I don’t either, honestly,” Jack says.

“Does he not talk to you?” You asked.

Jack sighs. “It’s Quinn, remember? He doesn’t tell us much.”

Jack looks over at your face before laughing lightly. He grabs a tissue from the box on your side table, handing it to you. “You’ve got mascara and snot all over your face.” He says.

You give his shoulder a light shove, taking the tissue and wiping it around your eyes. Jack gets up from beside you, looking out the window that overlooks the front yard. You toss the tissue in the wastebasket, looking at Jack, who’s got a grin on his face.

“What are you looking at?” You ask him.

“Go downstairs.” He says, closing your curtains.

“What?”

“Go downstairs! Quickly!”

Jack yanks the blankets off you, pulling you up. You look back at Jack as you hear the sound of the front door opening and then clicking shut. He simply grins, shoving you towards the staircase. You walk down the stairs and to the front entrance, where you see Luke taking off his shoes.

“Luke?” You ask. It hasn’t been more than 15 minutes since he and Quinn had gone to the airport, even though the airport’s almost half an hour away.

“He’s outside, please don’t put me in this again.” He says, walking to the living room.

You walk outside seeing Quinn, standing on the walkway. His bag is by his feet, a nervous air surrounding him. “Why are you here?” You ask.

“I couldn’t go.” He says. His eyes are pained but there’s a small smile on his face.

“What?” You asked.

Quinn steps forward, his wide stride stopping him right before you. “I fucked up. Big time, believe me, I know.” He says. “I was so scared to tell you how I felt in fear of ruining this…us. I mean we’re Quinn and y/n. We’re supposed to be best friends till the end, right?”

Quinn’s words confuse you, not understanding where his sudden change of attitude came from or what point he was trying to make.

“What are you saying, Quinn?” You ask.

“I think I’m in love with you.” He says.

Your heart pounds against your rib cage, heat rising to your cheeks. The words you’ve been wanting to hear from your best friend's mouth for years.

“And I don’t even know if you feel the same, but I can’t leave knowing you didn’t know,” Quinn says. “I love you, y/n, and I have for years.”

Your instincts drive you and suddenly your hands are on his face, your lips pressed together. It takes a second for Quinn to recognize what is happening but when he does, his hands are on your sides. His stubble scratches your chin slightly, but you don’t mind. He pulls you into him, deepening the kiss.

You pull back suddenly, stepping out of Quinn’s grasp. “Wait.” You say. “I don’t understand, you have been a dick to me this entire week. Why?”

“I was scared, y/n.” He says. “I’ve had a crush on you since we were sixteen. I thought I was over you, finally, but when I saw you last summer, I realized I was more in love with you than I’d ever been. I didn’t think you felt the same and I didn’t want to ruin our friendship. I was so scared of losing you if you didn’t feel the same, that I just assumed cutting you out of my life was easier.”

“Why would you ever think that was the easiest option?” You ask, throwing your hands up.

“I don’t know! I… I don’t know.” He says, defeated. He hangs his head, looking down at his shoes.

You sigh at Quinn’s mild stupidity. You place a hand under his chin, forcing him to look up at you. His soft eyes are the same as when you were 9 and you had dared Quinn to kiss you, only to run when he tried.

“Not having you in my life is the last thing I ever want to happen. I don’t care if we hate each other's guts. All I need is to have your eyes in my life.” You say.

Quinn scoops you up, holding your body against his. His lips crash into yours, desperate to share your air. Your arms wrap around his neck, your toes just barely touching the ground. You’re tentative and careful, just lightly brushing your lips against his. Quinn leans in further, needing your lips on his.

The living room window being cracked open releases the squeals of your mothers, happy to see the two of you finally realizing what the rest of them realized when you were just kids.

[moonlightazriel]

The truth about you /// Azriel X F!Reader

Summary: Azriel knew everything about her and her family filled with criminals, or that's what he thought, what if the truth was different from what he have heard?

Warnings: Angst, fluff and a bit of smut.

Word Count: 2,9K

Notes: I think I'm slowly finding my way back into writing and it feels so good, this has been sitting on my drafts for a while but still needed to finish it, but here we are. I'm feeling better and thank you for all the patience and support.

Main Masterlist

“I have a mission for you.” These were the words that led him there, the task was simple, receive a package, and take back to the House of Wind. The problem? The package came in the form of a beautiful woman, with dark hair reaching her waistline, cunning brown eyes, and too much attitude.

She kept looking around Velaris all the way until he should fly her to the House, stating that she never saw such a beautiful place before, and would be a nice place to stay for a while. Azriel admired her figure as they walked, she was just a few inches shorter than him and her clothes were a bit too tight on her curvy body.

The stranger also smelled really nice as he pulled her closer, bringing her up and flying towards the balcony of the House of Wind, where Rhys was waiting for them. She clung to him but took the flying adrenaline incredibly well for someone wingless. He smirked at that, liking how she wasn’t afraid of falling to the city below.

Whowever, his hopes of even becoming her friend vanished as Rhysand opened his mouth, greeting her with a rather cheerful “Y/N Caidan, what a pleasure to meet you.” The only daughter of Eldar Caidan, a very wanted man on the Illyrian Steppes for numerous crimes. He felt disgusted, wanting to get as far as he could from her. That was the beginning of his torment.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

She moved her hips as she walked, knowing that this drove him mad and his eyes were glued to her back as they made their way to Rhysand’s office, she could hear the annoyed huffs he let out, so used to them in the two years they’d been working together. Azriel wasn’t easy to deal with, especially with the unpleasant side he reserved especially for her.

Three knocks and Rhys shouted that they could come in, dropping the papers containing sensitive information on the dark wooden desk, she sat, legs crossed as she stretched her back, feeling her sore muscles ache from all the effort.

“As you asked Rhys, everything about those secret Illyrian reunions.” He looked at her, his eyes stopping at the fading purple marks around her eyes, behind her Azriel stood, silent as the dead.

“You two are a great duo, despite everything, thank you. You two can go and rest.” She nodded, walking out of the office and heading to her house in the town, all she could think was about the warm bath that she would take later. 

“I don’t want to question your judgment, but why do you trust her, Rhys? Especially with this kind of mission.” He spoke, his throat dry as he barely used his voice in the week they’d been together on a mission.

“Because she’s good at what she does and she’s a good person.” Rhys spoke dryly, tired of this same conversation, this have been happening for the past two years without a break. Azriel had to stop the urge to roll his eyes at the answer.

“A good person that came from a family of criminals.” He knew he sounded like a whining kid but it wasn’t possible that he was the only one in his right mind that didn’t trust her, her family invaded Illyrian camps for years, murdering the females. Azriel had come to the camps a couple of times, blood everywhere, clothes sliced, and the smell of fear mixed with panic, and a scent so familiar the one lingering on her every damned time. If he closed his eyes, he could still see and smell the fresh blood. What made his blood run even colder was that they never left bodies behind, Mother knows what those monsters did with them.

“We cannot judge a child for the mistakes of their parents, can we?” It stung, cuz he knew that Rhysand was right, but he still couldn’t let his guard down around her, he knew that she was planning something, he just needed to figure it out.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“How was the mission?” Morrigan asked, sipping on her glass of wine, while Y/N finished with the charcuterie board she was making for the two.

“Good, got everything that I needed, Azriel just made my life extremely difficult but I’m used to it by now.” She took a bite from a piece of cheese, took the board, and headed for the tiny balcony adorned with little lights and a great view of the Sidra, the soft summer breeze made her shiver a little but she sat down, with Mor following her closely.

“Maybe you should just tell him, I know he will understand.” She scoffed.

“Mor, are we talking about the same person? Azriel won’t understand, he won’t even listen to me. And I don’t want to share my story with him, if he doesn’t trust me, I don’t have any reasons to tell him. He can discover on his own if he wants to find the truth so bad.” Mor lifted her hands in surrender while Y/N took a long sip from her wine. “But at least I don’t mind looking at his pretty face.” Morrigan laughed. 

“Don’t even tell me, the Mother took her time making that one, and I don’t even like men.” The two laughed. 

“Morrigan, things got dirty and he headed to a lake to clean himself, I almost drowned in my drool as I watched the water run down those abs, he’s truly beautiful, such a shame he’s an asshole.” She gave Y/N a severe look.

“Even if I don’t agree, Azriel has been through a lot, he just doesn’t trust people easily, and with the outlaw fame your family has, he’s just waiting for the betrayal, once he sees that things aren’t always as they seem, you will see that he’s such a gentle and kind male, he has a good heart.” 

“I know Mor, it’s just…. I’m tired of being judged and treated like a monster, he treats me so badly, he always questions my abilities and makes me feel like I’m less worth it, that I’m inferior to everyone.” Mor placed a warm hand on her knee.

“I’ll have another talk with him, he can hate you all he wants, but he won’t treat you like this.” Y/N smiled at her,  feeling her heart warm at the thoughtful words of her best friend. 

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

“You hit like a girl.” Nesta teased and Y/N rolled her eyes, she aimed for Nesta’s right side, where she quickly went to defend but she turned the other way, hitting her left side, making the oldest Archeron gasp for air.

“Thanks!” She offered a hand to Nesta, which she gladly took, and the two headed to the water station on the other side of the ring, the sun was at its highest in the sky, making the temperature almost unbearable, only the girls were training today, so there was a lot of skin showing around that balcony.

She saw the shadows from the corner of her eyes before she saw the Shadowsinger, when she turned, he looked slightly paler, eyes wide and looking like he had seen a ghost, her skin felt uncomfortable under his gaze, still fixed on her, she quickly removed the tie from her hair, letting it fall behind her, hiding her exposed back as she darted out of the room. 

“Cassian’s looking for you.” He managed to say, her smell still fresh in the air, and the image of her exposed back still replaying in his mind, two big scars marking each side of her shoulder blades, in the same place Illyrian wings should be. He turned on his heels, ready to follow after her, but Nesta stopped him.

“Azriel, don’t.” She warned him, her fingertips were cold against his skin, and he knew that he should let that go, for now.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

The image of her scarred back didn’t leave his mind for days, and ever since he saw her, she’s been avoiding him, every time she sees him entering a room, her expression changes and she leaves immediately, this pissed him off a bit. But as much as he wanted to ask about it, he knew that he shouldn’t push her into answering, he would have to find it on his own.

Then, he was reminded why he didn’t trust her in the first place, as she poked her head outside Rhysand’s office, looking both sides and only stepping out when she was sure no one was around, a pile of papers clutched to her chest. A chill in his spine told him he needed to follow her and get to the bottom of his suspicions. 

It was nightfall when she emerged out of her room, her leathers and weapons in place, her hair in a bun, she moved quietly, and as she passed by him, he could see that she had the reports on the northern camp that was supposed to receive new females in a few days, the papers tucked on the bag strapped around her torso. His blood ran cold as he understood what was happening.

She would take the information to her family and they would execute the females, he knew he had to stop her, but would be better if he stopped all of them at once. So he quietly followed her, for days, only stopping in an inn, she had taken a room and he was currently drinking some wine and eating the food offered there, regaining the energy to do what he had to.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

Y/N watched from the top of the stairs as her brother and cousin dragged the spymaster’s body with them, a lazy smirk on her lips as she thanked the innkeeper for helping her, a bag of gold coins dropped on the counter and she was on her way, to her family’s secret war camp. 

“I’ll take care of him now.” She said as they all reached Miramaris, her family war camp. Azriel was still asleep as the males placed him in the chair, chaining him so he wouldn’t try to escape before she could explain.

Y/n watched him throughout the night, not even once looking away from him, she ran a hand through his soft hair, sighing as she stretched her part of the bond until it hit the emptiness on the other side as it hadn’t snapped for him yet. She had known he was her mate for about two months now.

A late night travel to the library, where he was also reading, it only took one look in her direction, him scoffing and getting up to leave for the bond to snap, leaving her astonished and stuck in the same place for a couple of minutes, wondering what teh hell would she do.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

His head hurt and everything felt dizzy, he didn’t recognize the room he was in, but he could tell the walls were made of stone, people walked outside and he could hear the sound of metal against metal like someone was training. His hands were restrained by chains and the was a soft light on top of his head.

The steps grew closer to his cell, the heavy door swung open and three males walked in, and behind them Y/N was smiling, approaching him.

“See that you met my family, quite nice people, don’t you think?” He scoffed.

“If you think murdering people is a nice thing, then sure, amazing people.” His tone was laced with sarcasm. He eyed Eldar and the other males with pure hatred, fighting against the chains, he tried to call for Rhysand but his mind was still too foggy to reach so far.

“He still thinks that’s what we do?” The older male asked and smiled. “Rhys will be quite disappointed that you think he would let us walk freely if we were really murdering these females.”

“Dad, let me do the talking, I’m used to the pretty frown by now.” His heart fluttered as the word pretty left her lips. “Maybe bring some food, chicken with mashed potatoes is his favorite.” Again, his heart beat faster as she spoke, does she really pay attention to him like that? Eldar nodded, patting his daughter on the head, he could see the love in the gaze he directed to her, at least he loved his daughter, he wasn’t a complete monster.

“I don’t want anything from you.” He spat, and she walked closer, lowering her body until they were facing eye to eye.

“And here I was, ready to give the only thing you’ve been wanting from me ever since we met.” He cursed as his traitorous mind wandered to where his darkest thoughts hid in his mind, the images that would come late at night when he was alone, of her, splayed open to him, soaking cunt as he readied himself to take her how he wanted, the number of times he touched himself thinking about her, he didn’t trust her in the slightest, but that didn’t mean he didn’t find her attractive.

Truth be told, he still thought about her, and her body drove him mad, usually after training he would rush to his room to take a cold shower to stop his furious hormones from making him walk to her room and do all the dirty things he wanted to do to her. The fact that he was head over heels for her only angered him more.

“I grew up in a very traditional Illyrian family, but you see, my grandfather used to think that clipping wasn’t enough, removing a female’s wings was the way to go for him.” Her hands grabbed the hem of her shirt, lifting above her head, the laced black bra was hard not to look at, but his throat went dry as she turned her back to him, the scars were even uglier up close and he felt his heart clenched on his chest. “ My father only had enough courage to leave when he came home one day, he found my grandfather placing a new piece of decoration in the living room.” He knew what it was, but it didn’t hurt less as the words left her mouth. “My wings, so tiny, I was just a child. From that day, he swore no female would ever go through something like that again.” 

She turned to him again, shirt going back to place, as their eyes met, hers were filled with tears. 

“Do you wish to see our work?” He nodded and she motioned for him to follow but he shook his hands and she remembered about the chains. “Right, you’re cuffed. Would love to see you chained somewhere else but we don’t have time for that now.” The words sent a rush of blood straight to his cock.

He followed her, the mountain was warm, and as they walked around, he spotted hundreds of females, some training, some doing chores, but all of them were undeniably happy as they walked around with their wings held proudly behind them. 

“Welcome to Miramaris.” She gestured to the open space. “We raid the camps, and we forge the scene, they don’t bother looking for them anyway. Started with small cabins and barely any resources, but as Rhys’s father learned about this place, he helped us, he was a disgusting man but even he knew this was wrong, Rhys kept helping us after, and he invited me to work with him closely after I've been targeted by a rival camp, he saved my life, and he knows what we’re doing. We’re not the monsters here Az.”

He felt bad for all this time he judged her without even bothering to learn the truth about her. They were looking to an open field, some females were bathing in a lake that crossed the mountain. There were hundreds of them, even children were running around, this place was everything he dreamed for the camps to be. 

“I don’t even know how to apologize to you.” He said honestly.

“Help us save them, the females need me, they need us. You can come with me as my partner… “Nothing would’ve prepared him for the words that left her mouth next. “As my mate!”

“Your what?” He looked at her incredulously. 

“That night in the library? Where I found you in your cute pajamas?” The memory came back to him and he nodded. “ It was when it snapped for me, decided to tell you cuz you know the truth now and I would like to be told if it was the other way around.” He nodded, feeling a bit overwhelmed by all the information he received in a short amount of time. “You don’t have to say anything, but if you’re willing to give this a try, meet me tomorrow night right here, we have more females to save.” She said, turning her back to him and walking away.

⋆˙⟡☾𖤓☽ ⟡˙⋆

He saw her before she saw him, and as he watched her frame lean against the wall, dressed all in black and looking around expectantly, he felt, the bond making itself known for him, he could feel her on the other side, waiting for him with a warm heart filled with love, love for him.

“You came.” She smiled. Her eyes glowing with emotion as she felt a wave of feeling flooding her chest and as she reached for the other side of the bond, Azriel was there, waiting for her with open arms. 

“I would never let my mate go alone, never again.” He pulled her close, hand wrapped around her waist as he kissed her, her soft lips made him feel at home as she kissed him back. “Let’s go and rescue them.” He said, grabbing her in his arms, she let out an excited squeal as he leaped to the sky, taking her with him. 

[negansfavlucille01]

INNOCENCE Pt. 1

Negan × innocent reader (female)

Warnings: Mention of erection, weird liquid tasting

Note: I'm sorry for not posting, but I didn't know how to finish this. I decided I'll make a part two and maybe three if yall want. I have. Some drafts, so I'll upload more. Also I met people who don't like Jeffrey. UNBELIEVABLE. 😒

Quiet footsteps filled the hallway. Her bare feet touched the ground as she made her way to the room she knew only she was allowed in. Negan's room. It was late at night, probably around one am. Maybe two. She couldn't sleep. She tried everything. Reading a book, hot tub to relax and help her sleep. Nothing. And if there was one thing she knew for sure, that was that only he was gonna help her. The door opened slowly. It was dark. Light soft snores were filling the room. She could almost see him. Almost. His leather jacket was on the chair next to the bed. Knowing the room like the back for her hand, she knew where to step, shaking him gently once she got to him.

"Hm?" His voice was deep, almost harsh as he hadn't realized it was her yet. He sat up. "Someone better be fucking dying..."

"I... I can't sleep..." That was all she needed to say to be pulled in his arms once again. His touch was soft, making her snuggle deeply in him. He adjusted her so her head was on his chest. Her hair fell down. So pretty.

When he found her on that road, years ago, he knew he had to take her. She was a child. And he couldn't let a child die. At least not her. It took one look to know she was innocent. He had to be gentle with her, because she was special. Every single man in the Sanctuary knew she was. And if they touched her? They met Lucille. Usually, she struggled with sleeping. She was hesitant to go to Negan the first night, but he was so understanding. He made sure she fell asleep before he did.

This time it was different.

When he went to wrap an arm around her, he felt no shirt. Her skin was soft. (He imagined laying his head on her belly and then felling asleep, but he couldn't) "What the.." He quickly slid the sheet off and turned the lamp on the nightstand. She was wearing just a bra and shorts. "Where the fuck is your shirt at?"

"It was very hot in my room..." She looked up at him, her big doe eyes shining at him. He couldn't resist it. He couldn't be mad.

"You know you can catch a cold, sweetheart."

"I'm sorry..."

"Go to sleep."

Y/N rolled on her side, but before Negan could turn off the light, she saw something. "Negan, I think you spilled some milk on your sheet.."

His eyes widened when he saw her pointing at a white stain on the black sheet. He forgot to clean it up. "Yeah, probably.." He chuckled nervously.

Reaching her hand to the thing, Y/N touched it with her finger and brought it to her mouth, tasting it. "It tastes weird.. Like salt.." She stated.

"I'll clean it up in the morning, just... go to sleep." She nodded and laid back down

It was around five am when she shook him awake. Negan sat up, looking at her with confusion once again. "What now?"

"Something is poking me, Negan.." She pointed at the now painfully hard erection he had in his boxers. "Is that normal? What is it? Did something sneak into your pants?"

"It's normal, go to sleep." He interrupted her before she comes ask more questions.

"I can't.."

"And why the fuck not?"

"I'm curious about something..." She looked into his eyes before her own traveling down to his chest hairs. "A few weeks ago, I heard some of your men talking.."

"About what?" He brushed the strand of hair behind her ear.

"But I can't.."

She stayed silent for a few minutes before looking back at his eyes and licking her lip. "What's sex?"

Part 2?

[yes-divine-ruler]

Mr Anderson - Kai Anderson

x fem!reader

cw: uni professor/student relationship (student is of age), oral (both receiving), smut, spanking w a belt

wc: 3.2k

You sat down eagerly at the front of the lecture hall, sliding your tote bag onto the desk. You take out your laptop and your folder of loose leaf paper, organising it in front of you. You were early five minutes, giving you the time to compose yourself before your professor arrived. It wasn’t like political philosophy was anything special. The information being relayed to you was dull, but the way it was being taught was what had your undivided attention.

Mr Anderson flew through the double doors of the lecture hall with a minute to spare. In a hurry, he paces over to his desk, tucking in the front of his button up shirt into his slacks. It was black today, like his pants and polished shoes. He wore a heavyweight coat that he shrugged off and rested on the backrest of his chair. Your breath catches in your throat just looking at him. Undeniably, Mr Anderson was the sexiest man you’d ever laid eyes on. You’d have him to thank for your perfect attendance and grades. He wasn’t only nice to look at, but he believed in you. He made everyone feel like they had the potential to succeed.

You take your pencil case out of your tote, and discard the bag by your feet. Your hands shook as you tried to unzip your pencil case. Mr Anderson always made you feel like a nervous wreck. It was mortifying, especially when he’d notice.

“Okay everyone, welcome back to political philosophy,” Mr Anderson gains the attention of the class. His sudden introduction startled you, and with fingers like butter, your pencil case slides off the end of your desk. Your pens sprawl across the carpet at the front of the hall.

Mr Anderson stops shortly, and let’s out a small laugh, approaching your desk. Your face heats up as you get a whiff of his intoxicating cologne. He even smelt godly.

“I’m sorry, Mr Anderson,” you apologise, getting up to collect your pens on your own. Mr Anderson was already one step ahead of you, and passed back your pens in a closed fist.

“You have to be more careful Y/N,” he teases, and all you can do is offer him a small, weary smile in response.

Mr Anderson continues on with his class. You pay close attention to everything he says, noting down what was important to remember. It doesn’t take long before you’re scribbling in the margins of your notebook and keeping a trained eye on the way his body moved. You didn’t think you were anything special. Not special enough for your professor to see you as anything more than what you were. He knew your name but, he barely treated you different to the other students.

You spent the rest of the lesson trying to conspire up ways to stand out to Mr Anderson. The semester was almost at an end, and with only a few weeks to go, you knew you had to act fast. It would be a heck of a summer if you could just get inside his head.

The following week you turned up to class dressed to impress. Mr Anderson was in early today, looking more organised and less flustered than last week. His hair was tied back into a man bun, accentuating his sharp, dark features.

“Y/N! Good to see you,” Mr Anderson doesn’t even look up at his desk to greet you. You huff, deciding to stand opposite his desk so he would notice you. He drops his pen, and his gaze finds yours.

It doesn’t take long before he’s noticing your outfit next. A shopping trip to the mall scored you a tight-fitting white top with a low neckline, and the tiniest pair of shorts you could find. Your hair cascaded down your back in small waves. Never seeing you in anything but sweats, Mr Anderson’s eyes almost bulged out of his head.

“Hi Mr Anderson,” you spoke sweetly, taking a printed copy of your political essay out of your tote, “I ended up finishing my draft last night, do you think you can help me look over it after class?”

Your sudden change in appearance and your confident demeanour had your professor speechless. He tried to form the words to say, but couldn’t help taking glances at your copious amounts of cleavage. Knowing your plan was working, you set the essay down on the desk.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” You cross your arms over your chest and raise an eyebrow at him.

“Yeah, sure. I’ve got an hour after class. I can help you,” you saw Mr Anderson’s adam’s apple bob as he swallowed thickly. Your plan was well in action, and you’d cursed yourself for not taking the risk earlier.

It wasn’t only Mr Anderson’s attention you’d snagged. As your classmates filtered into the hall, you noticed a lot more stares in your direction. You’d even managed to persuade one of the guys in your class to sit at the front beside you. No one was usually inclined to sit beside you, especially at the front of the hall in Mr Anderson’s direct line of vision. This new found confidence and attention gave you the drive you needed to seal the deal.

“Hey,” the guy next to you whispers to you as Mr Anderson begins the lesson. You turn to look at him and offer him a small smile.

“Y/N right? I’m Kyle,” Kyle smiles back and tears off the corner of his note-page. Your eyebrows knit together in confusion as he slides it over to you. Before you have the chance to read what it says, a hand slams down on your desk.

“Give me that,” you look up to see Mr Anderson had halted his lesson just to get the note you were given.

“Sir, this isn’t high school. We’re allowed to pass notes,” Kyle scoffed, earning himself a few laughs.

“I don’t care, it’s still not appropriate. Y/N? Now please,” Mr Anderson holds out his hand and you hesitantly pass over the note.

He crumples it in his hand and walks coolly back to the front of the hall. You don’t have the nerve to look back at Kyle, who you can now see is typing furiously on his phone. Mr Anderson makes eye contact with you. Something in his gaze burns. In response, you slump in your chair and try to finish the rest of the lesson without pulling your hair out.

When class is over, you wait until everyone’s gone before you approach Mr Anderson again. Mr Anderson stands at the double doors, holding it open and letting everyone leave.

“Hey,” Kyle stands in front of your desk, “sorry about that, don’t know why Mr Anderson is being a dick. Can I grab your Snapchat?”

You try not to laugh as you nod your head. Kyle was cute but, he wasn’t the type of guy you craved. You craved a man who stood over you and took control. Like Mr Anderson.

Regardless, you type your username in his phone and give him a wave as he leaves. Maybe Mr Anderson will see the exchange and feel the way he did about the note.

“Y/N, come sit,” Mr Anderson shuts the door of the hall, locking in from the inside. You leave your desk to sit next to him behind his own.

“I haven’t had a chance to read over it yet, shall we do it in sections?” Mr Anderson tucks in his chair, coming in closer to you. His knee brushes yours, sending a tingle up your spine.

“That’s fine Mr Anderson,” you respond, your gaze burning into the side of his face as he reads.

“What made you want to dress so different today? Change in weather?” Your eyes widen at his question. You clear your throat and let out a small laugh.

“Um, kinda. I was sick of wearing sweats. Suddenly everyone is noticing me,” you bat your eyelashes at your professor as he shares your laughter.

“Ah well. Sounds superficial to me. They should appreciate you regardless.” His comment stumps you, but with your new found confidence, you lean closer to him to whisper.

“I saw you looking too, Mr Anderson,” you purr, “you couldn’t take your eyes off me.”

Mr Anderson subtly chokes on the sip he’d just taken from his keep cup.

“Sorry?” He asks, turning to look you in the eyes.

“You heard me,” you push, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, “I could feel it. I thought you might like it.”

Mr Anderson suddenly goes stiff. His eyes turn dark as he turns his entire body to face you. You try and keep your confidence high knowing that passed this point, it was either make or break.

“That isn’t appropriate Y/N,” he growls sternly, getting up from his chair. Shit. You blew it.

You open your mouth to speak, but Mr Anderson has other plans.

“You’re telling me, you dressed like a whore to get my attention?” His lips form into a snarl as he waits for your response. You wanted to just curl into a ball and die.

“Um, I dont know what to say- I-”

“Get up.”

In shock, you hesitantly follow his orders, standing from your chair. You were so close you could feel his cool, minty breath fan your face.

Mr Anderson’s hands find your hips, and in surprise, you gasp. His cool hands turn you around and push your hips into the edge of the desk.

“I’ve always noticed you, Y/N,” your back presses against his chest as he hovers behind you. A dull pulse ignites between your thighs, making you feel lightheaded and slightly dizzy. He had an effect on you six feet away from you. The close proximity was almost too much.

“You’re my best student,” he whispers, pressing the front of his pants to your barely covered ass, “you don’t need to compromise yourself to be that.”

His big hand sits between your shoulder blades, and in an instant, he has you bent over his desk. Your tiny shorts had ridden all the way up, exposing almost the entirety of your ass cheeks.

“Is this what you want?” He asks, as you hear the buckle on his belt rattle as he unclasps it.

“Yes, Mr Anderson,” your breathing picks up pace as you get more excited. Everything you’d dreamed of the whole semester was coming to fruition.

“You have to promise me something,” he says as you feel the cool leather touch your exposed skin. Your body breaks out in a frenzy of tiny goosebumps as he sways the belt across your ass.

“You can’t tell anyone about this, not your friends, not your family, no one. You must understand how bad this is for me, to be giving into you,” Mr Anderson pushes up against your ass again, digging your hips harder into the edge of the table. You let out a small whimper, loud enough for Mr Anderson to notice. The bulge in the front of his slacks only grows hearing the sounds you’re making.

“I promise sir,” you whine, turning your head to look behind you. You see that Mr Anderson had taken off his belt and unfastened his pants. His dark grey boxers were the only thing stopping you from seeing him fully. You’d imagined so many times how big it must be.

“Good girl,” Mr Anderson mewls, before he strikes your ass cheek with the thick leather strap of his belt. You gasp loudly, your body withering beneath him at the pain. When the sting is over, the dull pulse takes over, this time, much more unbearable.

“Let me take these off,” Mr Anderson reaches around to the front of your shorts, unbuttoning them to pull them down your legs. You step out of them, almost shaking in anticipation. It reveals to him your tiny, lace panties.

“Fuck,” you’d never heard Mr Anderson swear. It was so sexy hearing him so worked up that another wave of pleasure coursed through you.

“You’ve been misbehaving, Y/N,” he says, the belt caressing your ass again, “wearing those slutty little clothes just for your professor, those tiny panties,” Mr Anderson was almost shaking in excitement too.

“Please sir,” you plead pathetically, bracing yourself with your hands on the table, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry isn’t going to cut it. I think you need to feel how wrong it is.”

Another moment passes before Mr Anderson strikes your ass again with the belt. And then again. And again. Until tears prick at the corner of your eyes and your throat goes dry. Your ass was sure to be burning red by now, and it was definitely sore as Mr Anderson caressed his work with his fingers.

“You did so well, I’m done, that’s all your punishment,” he says softly, before he’s pulling your panties down your legs. The cool breeze hits your soaking folds, and it was only then did you realise just how turned on the pain made you.

“Holy shit,” Mr Anderson let’s out a low whistle as he gets on his knees behind you. You wiggle uncomfortably as he spreads your cheeks, leaving nothing to the imagination.

“You’re soaking fucking wet,” he growls, before his fingers make their first contact with your pussy. You almost cry out as Mr Anderson teasingly runs a finger up and down your slit, collecting your sweet arousal. He smears your slick across your clit, applying a small amount of pressure on it. Your knees buckle, but Mr Anderson’s hold on you keeps you up right.

“You little whore. Who would’ve thought, Y/N, a good student, sickly attracted to her professor,” he blows on your cunt, provoking another pleading whine from you.

“Please, sir. I can’t wait,” you cry, pushing your ass out and closer to his face.

Mr Anderson hums, coming in closer and caving to his own desires. With your cheeks spread open for him, he dives in, his tongue prodding between your folds. You moan as he violates you with his tongue, bringing it down towards your sensitive bundle of nerves. He sucks your clit into his mouth, before he’s moving his tongue towards your second hole.

“Oh my god, yes! Yes, fuck!” Your eyes shut as the pleasure rocks you, your nails digging into his desk for leverage. Mr Anderson’s tongue swirls around your tight hole, before he’s back to your dripping cunt. His mouth works expertly against your heat, humming contently at the taste of you.

“Fuck. Come here,” Mr Anderson stands and pulls you away from the desk, pushing you down onto your knees.

He lifts your shirt, above your breasts, seeing you’d also failed to wear a bra. Your nipples stood to attention, as you stared up at him with doe eyes. Mr Anderson pulled out his heavy cock, and your eyes turned the size of dinner plates just looking at it.

“Open,” he commands, his fingers locking around your jaw and wrenching your mouth open.

You took him in your mouth willingly. Mr Anderson takes advantage, shoving his cock so far down your throat it triggered your gag reflex. You look hopelessly up at him as his fucks your throat, collecting all the saliva he could around his thick cock. More tears collect in your eyes as you stare up at him like a lost puppy. His gaze burns into yours as flashes of lust, anger and need glaze over his dark eyes. He desperately needed to be inside your tight, dripping cunt and he didn’t have much time.

“Get up,” he commands again, watching you rise to your feet. With your chests pressed against each other, Kai goes in for the kill. Capturing your lips in a passionate kiss, he pushes your ass back against the desk. You moan into his mouth as his tongue dances with yours, exploring the entirety of the inside of your mouth. His lips are soft and smooth and he tastes extraordinary. It exceeded your dirtiest, darkest thoughts about him.

His hands push your hips down onto the surface of the desk, and then cup under your thighs to hold your legs up. His lips detach from yours, and with one hand, he guides his leaking tip towards your entrance. Mr Anderson spits, directly on your pussy, and a moment later he’s stretching you out. Inch by inch, he sinks inside you. Your head tilts back from the intense pulses of pleasure, and a tiny whine escapes your lips.

“You’re so fucking tight,” Mr Anderson seethes, using his weight to keep your hips down as he finally bottoms out inside you.

“Oh Mr Anderson! Fuck!” You moan, just as he begins to rut his hips. He slams himself inside you, filling you completely, before pulling almost all the way out.

He repeats the motion, his face screwed in pleasure as he pounds into you.

“Such a good girl, taking my cock like this,” he growls, his fingertips digging in your skin and leaving red prints, “you look so fucking good right now.”

You could help but watch where your bodies met. You knew you were on the brink of finishing. Mr Anderson’s cock disappeared inside you, only to come out glistening in your arousal, time and time again. His thumb rests on your swollen clit, circling it with more of his spit.

“Is my good girl gonna cum? Are you gonna finish on Mr Anderson’s cock?” His thrusts only got harder, the tip of his cock deliciously prodding at your sweet spot.

“Yes! Yes sir, can I cum?” You asked, seeing stars in your field of vision as the knot in your abdomen begged to be untied.

“Good girl, cum. Cum for me,” Mr Anderson fucked you so gruellingly and deep it tipped you over the edge.

You let out a pleasured cry as you came like you’d never cum before. Mr Anderson was close behind you, finishing inside you and fucking his cum deep into your pulsing cunt. When he pulled out, still stimulating your clit, a small stream of arousal soaked the front of his shirt. He groaned as you lay, fucked out and panting to catch your breath back. Unfortunately, having wet your draft essay in the process.

Mr Anderson took a moment longer to soak in the image of your bare body, before you finally sat up.

“Why are you wet?” You asked, scrunching your nose in confusion as you got off the desk to dress yourself.

“You squirted on me, sweetheart,” Mr Anderson chuckled, as all the blood drained from your face.

“Oh I’m so sorry sir,” you were quick to reach forward and try and wipe at his dress shirt.

“Your essay too,” he smirked, picking it up in his hand and showing it to you. You groaned.

“I really did want you to read that,” you pouted, trying to take back the wet, and probably unreadable, essay.

“Uh uh,” he tutted, shoving it into his bag, “I’m keeping that. Ill be able to read it.”

The blood returned to your face with a furious heat as your cheeks blushed in embarrassment.

“Y/N, remember your promise,” Mr Anderson cupped your cheek and ran his thumb affectionately over your cheek bone, “and I’d like to see you again.”

Your heart fluttered hearing he wanted to see you again.

“Okay Mr Anderson, thank you,” you smile at him, ready to leave the lecture hall and freak out on your own about what just happened.

“Oh and Y/N,” he stopped you a final time as you reached the hall doors. You turn and face him.

“Call me Kai, outside of class, of course.”

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